


This War of Ours: Year Two

by jacqstoned



Series: This War of Ours [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Gen, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2020-12-09 19:03:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20999795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacqstoned/pseuds/jacqstoned
Summary: Harsh realities of war slowly seep through the Academy’s walls. Old allies disappear and new ones take their place. As Katara starts her second year in the school, she is faced with secrets that are ripe to be uncovered. [Zutara AU, inspired by Harry Potter. Book Two of This War of Ours series]





	1. duty-bound

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS IT! It's Book Two of TWOO, people! 
> 
> Since we've reached this point, I feel it's about time I clarified this: There's only four years in the Academy, plus an additional year of service; I thought it was an appropriate parallel since there were four elements, plus energybending. In the Wizarding World, seven is the most magical number, and there's seven years at Hogwarts. So, because I'm sorta shortening the series, think of this book as Chamber of Secrets with a mishmash of events from the other books. 
> 
> I'm so excited to have reached this far, but this story would have just remained in my graveyard of unfinished documents without your support. Your encouragement kept me going all through Book One, so enough rambling and on to Book Two! Cheers!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS IT! It's Book Two of TWOO, people! 
> 
> Since we've reached this point, I feel it's about time I clarified this: There's only four years in the Academy, plus an additional year of service; I thought it was an appropriate parallel since there were four elements, plus energybending. In the Wizarding World, seven is the most magical number, and there's seven years at Hogwarts. So, because I'm sorta shortening the series, think of this book as Chamber of Secrets with a mishmash of events from the other books. 
> 
> I'm so excited to have reached this far, but this story would have just remained in my graveyard of unfinished documents without your support. Your encouragement kept me going all through Book One, so enough rambling and on to Book Two! Cheers!

"There it is!" Sokka crowed, his fur-lined hood falling back as he hung over the railing of the ship. He squinted his eyes against the snowflakes that clouded his view. "Is it me, or is the village bigger than I remember?"

"It is!" Katara gasped, pointing to one side of the settlement in the distance. "There's more watchtowers, Sokka, look!"

Their father chuckled behind them while his first mate, Bato, took over the steering. 

"We had to add more along the walls, with the traffic we get from foreign merchants," he said, laying a hand on both his children's shoulders. "The one you used to man with Amaruk is still intact, though, don't you worry."

"The port's bigger!" exclaimed Katara excitedly, but she shrank back towards her father as they neared their home. "Dad… are those…?"

Sokka blinked, too.

"Why do we have _ Fire Nation ships _on our port?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly. Their father sighed.

"They are necessary in maintaining peace in the Southern Water Tribe," he recited stonily, and both his children knew this wasn't a welcome change. 

To Hakoda, widower and father of two, Fire Nation ships moored on their shores spelled nothing but doom to his family. Soldiers now manned the ports and disrupted the carefree life in the South, a curfew had been set and violators were publicly whipped with fire, and the constant presence of black snow from the steamers forced him and his comrades to relive the worst days of their lives.

As the chief of the Southern Water Tribe, though, it was a necessity. The thaw in the cold war between his country and the Regime of Fire reintroduced trading and opened communication lines between them and other countries once more; Fire Nation troops in the area worked alongside his own warriors to keep track of whoever goes in and out of the village walls; most importantly, there were no more starving children. No more hollow cheeks or deadened eyes. In Hakoda's book, having the life back in the eyes of his people trumped anything the tribe would have to give up.

He acknowledged his children's concerned looks with a nod of resignation, and walked back to Bato to check up on their progress at sea. Sokka and Katara, however, exchanged glum looks with each other.

"It can't be that bad…" began Sokka. "There's some Earth Kingdom ships over there, too— look. Besides, Dad wrote last winter that less people died 'cause we didn't have to hunt as much and we finally had healing creams and fever brews from the Earth Kingdom."

Katara scrunched up her face and turned away from the ocean with her arms crossed.

"I still don't like it. Haru said the Fire Nation soldiers at their village were thugs who stole from the people. How could _ these _soldiers be any different?"

Sokka just shrugged and pulled up his hood.

"I don't really know, sis." He heaved a huge sigh and continued to watch as their village grew on the horizon. "I guess we'll just have to see."

* * *

Not for the first time, an argument had broken out over breakfast at the Northern Water Tribe palace.

Chief Arnook had been woken in the early hours of the morning by a solemn guard escorting his daughter back to the royal wing, after yet _ another _ night of disruptive _ combative _ waterbending that left a bridge collapsed over the main canal.

"Third time this week!" cried Arnook, pacing the length of the royal family's private dining room. "I have turned a blind eye to your blatant disregard of our traditions, my daughter, but enough is enough!"

Yue tried, yet again, to explain.

"The moon calls to me, Father," she pleaded. "Even Sifu Pakku agreed— if you would just allow me to use the main plaza at night—"

"I do not know what possessed _ that man _ to teach you something as unforthcoming for a _ princess _ as _ combat training, _ but I put my foot down at any public spectacle of your new… _ hobby," _ her father spat, still pacing, still red-faced in his indignation. "This will not do, Yue. You are to be wed in _ a fortnight. _ Who knows what your in-laws would say if they found out you are anything other than a healer? Who knows what your _ betrothed _will say, my daughter?" 

_ They shouldn't give a viper rat's butt, _said a voice in Yue's head that sounded remarkably like Katara, but Katara was simply the chief's daughter in her tribe, not a princess, and princesses like Yue didn't have the power to speak their minds.

She looked down at her hands, curled into fists in her lap, and slowly unclenched them as she let out a heavy breath.

"I understand, Father," she said, as tears threatened to fall from her eyes. She blinked rapidly and swallowed against the lump forming in her throat. "I do not wish to bring dishonor to our family."

"Good." Arnook sat down at his usual chair at the head of the table and ran a hand down his face. "I am glad you understand, Yue."

Her mother, who had been silent during the whole exchange, gently laid a hand on Yue's shoulder.

"You must also understand, my dear, that it would greatly shame your husband if you are better than him at waterbending," she said, as though it was the most sensible thing in the world. "It is the job of the wife to support her husband and keep him happy."

_ What of my own happiness? _thought Yue sadly, but she nodded at her mother's words. She was the princess of the Northern Water Tribe; her own happiness came last. Her duty was to the people, and if marrying a man she didn't know or love made her people feel safe and secure, then she would gladly give up any semblance of happiness.

"Now that's settled," her mother cast a furtive glance in Arnook's direction, "It's time to plan your wedding, my dear. Now, the chief of our sister tribe—"

"Chief Hakoda will attend my wedding?" Yue blurted out, heart hammering in her chest. "Will his— will others arrive with him?"

Her mother's lips pressed into a hard line at her interjection, and Yue bowed her head in apology.

"I was saying, _ daughter," _her mother continued pointedly, "The chief of our sister tribe will hopefully depart with his retinue to arrive about two or three days before your wedding. Our delegation is getting ready to set out for the South Pole as we speak, and will arrive there in about five days, should Tui and La allow."

"Hadn't invitations been sent out, Mother?" she asked timidly. "May I ask why we are sending a delegation to accompany the Southerners here?"

It was her father who answered, however.

"Our sister tribe may not be as well-versed in politics as we are, my daughter," he began. "But it will obviously be in poor taste if we do not extend a personal invitation to them, especially now that they've signed the same pact we did with the Regime of Fire."

"Who among them are expected to attend my wedding, Father?" Yue asked lightly, as though she were truly excited about having more people attend the event, but her heart was in her throat and she couldn't decide which was better— to see Sokka one last time, or to not see him at all. 

"That is for them to decide, Yue," explained her father sternly. "No matter who they send, we will give them a gracious welcome. Understood?"

"Of course, Father." 

Her mother chose this moment to get back to planning the wedding.

"Now, I have called in the seamstress to alter the ceremonial robes you will be wearing… goodness, you have gotten so much thinner, my dear, you'll have to bulk up, otherwise they'll think you couldn't bear sons..."

Yue nodded along and tried her best to look remotely interested, but her mind was already far away.

* * *

The Southern Water Tribe had changed— that much was certain. 

After three days of wandering around the village, Katara decided that it wasn’t as drastic as she imagined— or feared, really. The change was, however, palpable in the air and in the way people held themselves a little straighter, their heads a little higher against the cold. 

The marketplace was thriving. Just a year ago, the little square held little to no goods, but with the influx of Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation merchants, stalls of hide had been erected in a loose circle around the open meeting place where the village elders usually congregated to settle matters within the tribe. Hawkers from the ships moored on the makeshift port now stayed a little longer and traded a little better. Bolts of silk and stacks of ceramic wares had made their way to the South. Children held colorful fruits and spiced candies as they ran through the tundra. 

Katara didn’t know what to make of all the changes. She couldn’t remember a time when life here had been this carefree. 

She told herself she would get used to it all, but it still terrified her. 

Last year, their tribe was starving; more people died at each season’s turn, and they couldn’t afford luxuries like dyed clothes or healing ointments. But they were also on their own, cut off from intrusive foreigners, blissfully pretending that the war wouldn’t come knocking on their shores. 

Katara shivered. Fire Nation streamers were always the stuff of her nightmares, and now they bobbed on their shores like it was an everyday occurrence (although it probably was, since the Fire Lord opened trade lines again). Soot caught on the fur of her parka, and she shook it off, still trying to convince herself that black snow didn’t mean death. 

“Oh hey, Katara,” Amaruk, one of Bato’s seven sons, caught up to her with a woven basket filled with fish strapped to his back. “See you’re back from school. You learn anything good up there?”

She shook herself and grinned at the older boy.

“You tell me,” she bent snow into water and transformed it into a whip, before letting it fly gracefully in the air and freezing it back into fine powdery snow. Amaruk watched in undisguised amazement and Katara beamed, despite the guilt churning in her stomach. Amaruk was older than her by about four years— he could’ve been old enough to go to the Academy before she and Sokka did, had the circumstances allowed him. 

He would have been a great warrior, and Katara felt her anger swell at the unfairness of leaving the rest of their tribe behind. 

_ But if he’d gone to the Academy, he now would have been old enough to die keeping the Regime of Fire’s peace, _ Katara thought bitterly. _ He wouldn’t be here, helping Bato and Dad and the rest of the village. _

“Something on your mind, turtle seal?”

Katara blinked, only to realize that she was trailing a few paces behind Amaruk. She sighed in resignation— there was no escaping her thoughts.

"I guess I'm still not used to…" she gestured vaguely at the bustling marketplace, "...to all of this."

Amaruk paused in his tracks and smiled dryly at a couple of children passing a wicker ball back and forth. 

"I know what you mean," he agreed, voice low. "Only the elders remember what it was like when our tribe flourished. It's been awhile, but all of this… it still seems fake, somehow." 

Katara nodded, clutching her mother's necklace at her throat.

"Like it could all be taken away at the snap of the Fire Lord's fingers," she said, just as quietly, looking warily at the pair of Fire Nation soldiers standing at attention nearby.

"Dad feels the same way," muttered Amaruk, also surveying the soldiers from the corner of his eye. He raised his voice and laughed freely. "Of course, my mother says it's just his paranoia talking— and you know her, she's always right about these things."

He motioned for Katara to walk alongside him, and casually slung an arm around her shoulders. Katara opened her mouth to protest, but Amaruk leaned in and whispered conspiratorially.

"We need to get word to your father, turtle seal," he murmured urgently. "We couldn't send reports to him when he and Dad went to the Fire Nation and left us in charge— our letters are being monitored, and so are the council meetings. But we got word from our merchant friends that the Fire Nation is amassing troops and they're increasing their presence in the North Pole. They said Chief Arnook is sending his warriors to recruit men from our tribe."

A shiver ran down Katara's spine.

"What does that mean?" she hissed. "They want us to go to war again, just when things are finally settling down between us and the Fire Nation?"

Amaruk curiously looked down at her.

"I thought you agreed that giving up our independence to the Regime of Fire wasn't the right decision."

"I didn't say it was! I didn't say it wasn't either!" Katara wrung her hands and glanced around agitatedly before continuing. "Dad sent Sokka and me to the Academy so they'll leave us alone, Amaruk. I didn't understand at first, but— our tribe was dying. It was the only way to save what's left of the Southern Water Tribe. If we go to war against the Fire Nation again— this time with the North, who, let me tell you, don't really see eye to eye with us— it'll be a thousand times worse than the Siege of the South!"

"Okay! Okay. Calm down, turtle seal," Amaruk laid a hand appeasingly on her shoulder, and Katara crosses her arms with a huff. "You still need to tell your dad, though. He needs to know, so he can decide what we could do."

Katara's posture slumped forward as she sighed.

"Yeah, I'll tell him."

Amaruk grinned at her and tugged her braid.

"Hey, cheer up. What were you in the market for, anyway?" he asked, adjusting the straps of his woven basket on his shoulders.

"Oh, right!" exclaimed Katara. She walked back to the center of the village. "I was looking for water skins."

Amaruk chuckled at that.

"What, all this snow isn't enough for you?" 

"No," Katara answered with a roll of her eyes. "I'm giving them as gifts to one of my friends from the Academy."

A sly smirk appeared on Amaruk's face.

"Ooooh, you got yourself a waterbending boyfriend, turtle seal? Do Sokka and Uncle Hakoda know?"

"It's not like that!" Katara laughed as she strode towards a stall. "I'm buying them as a _ wedding gift _ for my friend because _ she _is getting married."

"Wow, getting married, huh?" Amaruk scratched his chin thoughtfully. "What _ are _Northern women like?"

"Ugh, you wouldn't want to know most of them," grumbled Katara, her thoughts landing on how the other Northern Water Tribe girls treated her before she remembered Yue and Gumi. "But they're not all bad. They're just raised differently from us."

* * *

"Girls! Breakfast!"

Gumi groaned against her pillow. Her older sister, Vanya, was already puttering about in their shared room, humming happily to herself despite the early hour. The polar bear dogs were barking up a storm outside— their father was most likely unloading the sleds from his pre-dawn hunt, and that meant Gumi and her little sister, Popo, would be on meat curing and smoking duty until lunchtime. 

"Gumi, get up," Vanya said, tapping her lightly on the shoulder. When Gumi burrowed deeper into her pelts in response, her sister sighed and yanked off her blanket forcefully.

_ "Cold!" _yelped Gumi, scrambling to get her blanket back. Her sister held it out of reach and smirked at her.

"What, did you dream your were back in the Fire Nation where chores didn't exist?" Vanya asked dryly, hands on her hips. "Come on, you big baby. You're feeding the dogs after breakfast; Mom needs me at the healing huts."

"When will _ I _be needed at the healing huts?" mumbled Gumi, shoving her hair out of her face with a frown. 

Ever since she arrived back home and told her family about her first year in the Academy, her mother had been acting… rather distant. She used to call Gumi her "little healer in training" whenever she brought her to the healing huts— something she never did with her big sister, but now it was always Vanya accompanying their mother, always Vanya doing the chores that Mom used to entrust Gumi with.

It didn't help that Vanya, who was just a year older, had gotten engaged a few months back. Their mother had done nothing but dote on her eldest all summer.

Gumi's next words were coated in bitterness. 

"You're not even a waterbender— why does Mom even _ want _you down there?"

Her sister pursed her lips and busied herself with the blanket in her hands.

"Well, she's just having a hard time, you know," said Vanya, handing Gumi back her now-folded blanket and sitting down on the bed beside her. "You were gone for some time. She'll warm up to you again after a while."

Gumi pouted at her rumpled bedclothes. 

"Yeah, when I finally agree to go to the matchmaker and stop using waterbending for anything besides healing," she grumbled, plaiting her messy hair into a braid. "Dad doesn't seem to mind the stuff I do."

Vanya snorted at that. 

"That's because Dad's always wanted a son and now you're acting like one," she said haughtily, and Gumi stuck her tongue out at her as she shrugged her parka on. Her sister crossed her arms and continued in her Big Sister Voice. "Seriously, though. How long do you think you can keep this up, Gumi?"

"Keep what up?" she asked, genuinely confused.

"This," Vanya pointed at her, as though it explained everything. "Putting off going to the matchmaker, starting fights with the boys from your class, practicing your _ oh-so-special _ waterbending by doing menial stuff like filling kettles and cleaning pots— This is not _ you, _ Gumi."

"Did Mom put you up to this?" Gumi said suspiciously, but Vanya ignored her.

"How do you expect to get married, huh?" she pressed on. "Do you think boys care if you can do that octopus form thing when you can't even cook a simple stew?" 

"Not everything's about marriage, Vanya!" cried Gumi with a stomp of her foot. "What if the war picks up again, do you think _ anyone _ would care if I couldn't cook a _ freezing _stew?"

"The war _ can't _ pick up again— the Fire Nation's already won," Vanya replied hotly. "What's more important is settling down and helping out Mom and Dad by not freeloading here until you're too old for a match."

With that, she sauntered off. Gumi scowled at Vanya's retreating back and contemplated on covering her sister's bed with frost or encasing her favorite hair beads in a block of ice.

Instead, she laced up her boots, tucked her hair into her hood, and marched to the communal space where their family ate. She grabbed some seal jerky and ladled some soup into her bowl, munching and slurping in a pointedly unladylike behavior— maybe when they see her acting like this, no one would want to marry her even if her mother managed to drag her to the matchmaker.

It wasn’t like Gumi didn’t want to find a good match, though; just a year back, she was as boy-crazy as Yuka and Yura, and she gushed every time Baya showed her the letters that her match sent her. But then she stood up to Sifu Pakku— and everything changed.

“Who would even like those stupid chicken pig-headed boys, anyway?" she mumbled to herself, chewing vigorously on a hefty chunk of seal jerky. She gulped down her soup straight from the bowl— something her mother would definitely not approve of— then bent a bit of water from a pot to wash it. 

She shook her cold fingers and tugged on her mittens, pulling up her hood as she made her way to the door of their house. She paused at the threshold when she heard voices outside; it seemed her father was still with his hunting buddies, chatting away as they cleaned and gutted their kills.

"The royal guard said it was the princess's fault; apparently she was trying to have it all, practicing waterbending to _ fight, _could you believe it?" said one of the younger warriors.

"It's just teenage rebellion, mark my words," replied another. "My daughter almost eloped at sixteen before I beat some sense into her."

"Word is, the old master taught her to fight, back in the Academy." There was disbelief evident in the younger one's voice, and Gumi rolled her eyes.

“Education is wasted on the women,” scoffed the older hunter.

It was only at this moment that she heard her father's voice.

“My daughter is studying how to fight," he said, in that gruff way of his, "She’s a girl, but that’s not a problem.”

There was a pause, before the younger voice replied laughingly, "Are you sure your daughter's not just… an oyster shucker?"

Gumi's jaw dropped at the insinuation. Sure, she didn't want to find a match just yet, but she didn't like girls _ that way! _

"Wouldn't care if she was," came her father's answer. "'S long as she's happy."

Gumi shook her head, thinking she must have misheard him. Girls who liked other girls were the butts of jokes in their tribe, along with boys who liked other boys. It never occurred to Gumi that they could be _ happy _the way her mother and father were happy, especially with the way "oyster shuckers" and "icicle lickers" were treated. 

Apparently, her father's comrades felt the same. The older one let out a loud, rumbling laugh, and the younger one scoffed.

"You won't be happy when she ends up living in your tent in disgrace, Nukilik," warned the older one. "Tui and La do not look kindly on those who defy nature."

"Those freezing fish don't care what we do, Tamilok," grumbled her father. "If they did, they'd have ended the war long ago."

"There now, careful what you say," reproached Tamilok. "Your lack of faith might cost you."

* * *

In one of the many shadowed alcoves of the too-empty Academy, Fire Prince Zuko examined the missive he stole from his uncle's desk, his brows furrowed with displeasure.

The Fire Nation was known for its blazing summer afternoons, but the stifling weather was not the reason for the tightness in Zuko's chest.

_ It's only been a year, _ he thought bitterly, the corners of the parchment in his hands smoldering as he barely kept his anger in check. _ How can I be expected to fulfill my destiny in just a year? _

A pounding headache began to mount behind his scar, and he closed his eyes and his fists, crumpling the letter he was reading.

It has been a year, and Prince Zuko still sometimes wished his father had actually banished him. 

There was an odd sort of freedom to that. Banishment was the extreme, short of death. He would be removed from the line of succession, he would be reduced to a nobody… but he would be free to make his own destiny. 

Had the Fire Lord banished him, he wouldn’t have to hold onto the hope that someday his father would look at him with pride. Had his father so easily dismissed him, he would have known where he stood— albeit the pain of knowing he would never be enough for his father and his king. He wouldn’t have to second-guess if there was a chance his father would ever love him. 

But this…

_ Our most-esteemed Fire Lord has also enquired upon Fire Prince Zuko's progress in the mission he was tasked to complete. If, in a fortnight, the Fire Prince fails, the hunt for the Avatar would be given prime importance. All information regarding the Avatar must be reported directly to Admiral Zhao. _

"So that's how it is," Zuko muttered to himself, finally opening his eyes, the fire within him spreading resolutely. He clenched his jaw and set aflame the piece of paper in his fist until it was nothing but ashes. He leapt off the alcove and made his way to his chambers.

"If that's what you want, Father," he declared darkly, "Then so be it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of notes on Zuko's task: In the series, it seemed unusual for me that common people will not know about Zuko being banished, and it seemed unusual, too, that some of them will not be sympathetic, especially with the civilian casualties in the war. Sure, he was a prick in season one, but people who know the bare minimum (especially after Azula was declared heir to the throne) could actually question how a father could send a young boy out to sea just like that, and might even try to persuade him to side against his father in open rebellion. This is why I tweaked it— Ozai, despite his power and people's fear of him, has an image to project. By not banishing Zuko but still giving him an impossible (and relatively secret except from the military) task that he has no resources to achieve, Ozai is still setting him up for failure while washing his hands of the whole thing. 
> 
> Anyway, that's the first chapter! Please tell me what you think!


	2. save me who waits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title credits go to Merlinda Carullo Bobis' In Bed with Lorca: "When the whole world sleeps, save me who waits for the double somersault of the heart."

There was a party.

There was _ always _a party in their estate. It was how her parents asserted their position over all the other nobles. 

"Feed her quickly!" She heard her mother trill. "The guests will be here soon!"

Servants crowded around her like hordes of komodo rhinos; a few shoved spoonfuls of rich, thick porridge into her mouth before she heard the ceramic bowl being whisked away on its saucer, the utensils clattering to the ground in the servants' haste. She smiled to herself and grabbed a fallen spoon with her bare toes.

"Upstairs! Hurry!" 

She almost didn't have time to sneak the spoon into her sleeve before her mother ushered her into her bedroom and the rumble of dragon donkey-led carriages could be heard in front of their house. Her mother stood at the threshold for one uncertain moment.

"Remember, Toph," she told her, nerves all aflutter, "Not one word, alright? This is your future on the line."

The bedroom door clicked close, and with that, Toph was alone again. 

Well, as alone as she could ever be. She snorted derisively as she felt the two guards shift restlessly outside her door— a few minutes more, and their defenses would be loosened enough by antsiness. All Toph had to do was wait.

In the meantime, she would examine the spoon she stole. She barely used them— of course servants were assigned on rotation to feed her, the poor helpless little blind girl. But there was something in the utensils that called to her like her element did, albeit a little muted and a little _ fuzzier, _ but it was still _ there. _

Before she could get a decent analysis of the spoon, however, she felt more vibrations just outside her door. She shifted her stance and listened intently— two other servants, one hiding a jug of wine in his clothes, the other shaking a bag of Pai Sho tiles in her guards' faces. 

Toph smirked to herself. She knew it was only a matter of time before she could escape.

* * *

The night was dark with the scent of summer rain blowing in from the west, and there was no moonlight to guide him, but Zuko did not mind. It made his plans easier.

He stood for a moment atop the sloping grounds on the far end of the island where the Academy stood, letting his eyes adjust to the dimness. There wasn't a single light in any of the windows of the looming building behind him, no indication that his uncle was awake to stop him. He took a deep breath and nodded grimly to himself before setting out towards the boathouse near the Academy's docks, his footsteps barely a whisper on the fine sand, the rushing sound of the waves covering his ragged breathing. 

He arrived at the tall glass and wood structure, the water lapping at his feet. He paused for a moment and let flames blossom over his palm. He sized up the rowing boats stored on the wooden shelves, heart jumping in his throat. He knew next to nothing about sea vessels and sailing— after all, he'd grown up at the Caldera, serviced by palanquins, and his trips to the Academy had been made on the royal cruiser, back when he couldn't be bothered to learn how to steer or navigate. Back when his honor didn't depend on it.

He gritted his teeth and chose at random— it didn't matter, he argued to himself, he just needed one to get away from the Academy and back into the Capital City port, where he could sneak into one of Zhao's steamers. 

"If Zhao thought he could get away with capturing the Avatar and taking all the glory for himself," Zuko muttered, heaving the slender boat into the water, "He thought wrong."

Lightning illuminated the boathouse for a split second, followed by rumbling thunder that shook Zuko to his bones. Any other person would take the inclement weather as a sign to quit, but they weren't Zuko; Zuko never gave up.

He plucked two oars from a nearby shelf, slung his bag over his shoulder, careful not to jostle his sheathed swords, and leapt carefully onto the boat, balancing as he set the oars into position. There was another round of lightning and thunder, and belatedly he realized he didn't even leave his uncle a note; he would wake up and find him gone, with no idea where to look. Zuko closed his eyes. 

_ It's better this way. _ He thought to himself. _ I'm sorry, Uncle. _

He pushed his boat out into the open sea, the dark silhouette of the Academy growing slowly yet steadily smaller as he rowed into the horizon.

* * *

"Princess Yue! To what do I owe the pleasure, my dear?" 

Sifu Yugoda smiled at her in her warm, matronly kind of way, eyes crinkling at the corners. She set aside the book she was reading and motioned her to sit beside her, adding more kindling to the fire in the pit at the center of her home as she did so. It was such a familiar sight that Yue found herself sighing in relief as she settled by the fire, her shoulders lowering from where they were hunched to her ears for what seemed like the past four days.

"Oh, it's nothing, Sifu Yugoda. I just needed a break from wedding preparations," Yue said delicately, clutching her fur-lined shawl tighter around her as she watched Yugoda summon water into the kettle that hung over the fire. Her sifu smiled knowingly at her.

"It's just a few hours after dawn, Princess," Yugoda said wryly. "What could possibly require your attention when the day has barely started, hm?"

Yue averted her gaze and spoke to the flames.

"Hahn's family is arriving later. It just… it seems all too real, now." she replied quietly. She looked up from the flames and chuckled mirthlessly. "Isn't it ironic, Sifu? I've heard it's mostly the men that have cold feet before their wedding."

Yugoda was silent as she stood up and gathered her chipped tea service. She remained silent until she handed Yue her cup, the scent of moon peaches filling her small home.

"There is more to this visit than thawing out cold feet," Yugoda declared, her gaze penetrating. The princess took a deep breath and let it out slowly, her breath steaming before her.

"Do you have any news of Sifu Pakku's return from the South?" she blurted out. She bit her lip and set aside her tea with shaking fingers. "I know it's impertinent of me to ask, Sifu Yugoda, but there's no one else I could turn to for answers. Why would father send a waterbending master to the South Pole? I do not believe it's just about my wedding. Father's planning something, and I—"

_ I don't want Sokka to get hurt. _

She blinked back the tears that suddenly blurred her vision.

"I just don't understand," she finished lamely. She took a deep, steadying breath. "I have seen the invitations. Father has extended his hospitality to all the warriors in the South. It troubles me."

Yue wrung her hands as her sifu sipped her tea. Finally, the older woman closed her eyes and sighed.

"I'm afraid I have no answers for you, Princess Yue," she said, and Yue deflated. Yugoda opened her eyes and looked at her apologetically. "You are right, however; it is indeed suspicious to invite the warriors alone, especially with our correspondence being monitored by the Fire Nation. And I think I know why."

"How?" Yue asked, but the older woman just smiled mysteriously.

"It is always surprising how many secrets a woman can learn by simply being 'insignificant' to the eyes of men," Yugoda replied, before taking both her hands and looking at her solemnly. "Dark and difficult times lie ahead, Princess Yue.”

"What do you mean, Sifu?"

"There have been reports that the Regime of Fire is gathering troops to send to the Water Tribes." Yugoda gripped her hands tightly. "In search of the Avatar."

Yue's brows wrinkled in confusion.

"But the Avatar is simply a lost legend now, Sifu Yugoda," she murmured, as though whispering would somehow lessen the implications behind her sifu's words. "Fire Lord Sozin killed Avatar Roku; everybody knows that. And there are no Air Nomads anymore."

Yugoda smiled at her thinly, letting the situation sink in. Yue shook her head and yanked her hands out of the older woman's grasp.

"No," she breathed, still shaking her head. "They cannot plan on attacking us simply because they think the Avatar has been reincarnated as a waterbender! There have been treaties— pacts that Grandfather signed with the Fire Lord—"

Her eyes widened as another realization struck her. She stood up and placed her hands over her mouth in horror.

"The Southerners! Father can't possibly take all their warriors away! They'll be defenseless! What if the Fire Nation attacks them, too?"

_ What if Sokka goes with the warriors? What if Katara gets left behind? _

"I'm afraid that is the part where I have no answers for you, my dear," Yugoda said, guiding her back down and massaging her knuckles soothingly. "I do not know what Chief Arnook is thinking, but I'm sure that the Southern Water Tribe chief would not agree if it would put his people in danger."

_ Sokka and Katara's father, _ Yue thought, trying to calm her heart. _ Of course. _ Chief Hakoda wouldn't agree to anything that would endanger his children.

* * *

"You sit with your back hunched like that and you'll look older than me in ten years," his mother said dryly as she plucked feathers from an arctic hen just outside their hut. 

Hakoda grimaced and sat as straight as he could on the rock he was perched on. He fidgeted with the fur on his mantle and took a deep breath.

"Mother—"

"Oh, just come out and say what you have to say, Hakoda," Kanna said with a roll of her eyes.

Hakoda pouted at his mother— maybe this was why Sokka often wore the expression— and sighed.

"After the Northern delegation arrives… I will be taking Sokka and Katara… to the Academy," he said slowly, hesitantly. His mother stiffened for a moment and resumed plucking feathers with more vigor a displeased frown on her lips. He let the silence reign for a second; he knew how much his mother doted on his children, even before Kya passed, and the separation when they started school in the Fire Nation had not been easy on Kanna's part, though she never said it out loud.

"You better have a good reason for taking my grandchildren away from me earlier than necessary," his mother finally said, looking at him with a level gaze, which Hakoda met with one of his own.

"You know what the Fire Nation is planning, Mother," he said in a low voice. "I'm doing this to protect them, so they will not be caught in the crosshairs when… when the time comes."

"They should be here, with their family," Kanna replied sternly. "There is no safer place."

"There's no safer place, except perhaps the Academy," countered Hakoda. "They will be safer under Headmaster Iroh's protection, Mother. Even you cannot deny that."

The expression in his mother's eyes was as brittle as newly-formed ice.

"And what of the tribe, my son?" she asked gravely, the way she had asked him six years ago. "Wolves are strongest with their pack. You will leave your pack here, without protection from these Fire Nation soldiers who have a predilection for abusing their power?"

"The tribe will not be left defenseless, Mother," he answered wearily. "Bato's men will stay here to protect you. It will not be like the last time."

"You stubborn walrus yak," Kanna clicked her tongue and shook her head. "The Regime of Fire will brand you a traitor if you show allegiance to any other nation. Bato's men will not be able to protect the tribe then."

"We are not violating any pact by visiting the North Pole," Hakoda replied firmly. "And by doing so, we are leading the Fire Nation's troops away from the South."

"You are bait," his mother said simply, lips twisted into a dissatisfied grimace. "You have let the North convince you that you are fighting alongside them, but mark my words— you are just a pawn in their games."

"We are not. I am perfectly aware of all the possible consequences of the actions that we will take, Mother. Believe me," Hakoda retorted through gritted teeth. "This is the only way."

"No, it is not, Hakoda," his mother said sharply, wiping her hands on her dress. "You can leave the North to fend for themselves, as they have done to us during your father's time."

"Do you have any idea what will happen to the tribe if I do not agree to this?" he hissed, eyes darting around them to make sure no one would overhear. "The Fire Nation thinks we are harboring the Avatar, Mother. If I stay here, it will bolster their belief that the waterbending Avatar has been born in the South! Need I remind you what happened the last time the Fire Nation raided our village?"

Kanna's eyes softened at that, but the displeased look remained. She pursed her lips and exhaled.

"And so you think that by putting your life on the line, you are saving your tribe?" she asked wryly, a hint of mourning in her voice. "I do not understand you, my son."

"Joining the Northern Water Tribe in fighting the Regime of Fire is for the greater good," Hakoda said, even though there was a niggling feeling deep in his heart.

"The greater good," Kanna snorted and turned back to her arctic hen. "So many people die because of the greater good."

Hakoda had no reply to that. He watched his mother work silently, the biting air seemingly more bitter now against his snow-weathered skin.

"Your children will grow with or without you, you know," Kanna said quietly. "Sooner or later, they will go where you cannot protect them. And if they are anything like you, my son, you will not be able to make them stay."

* * *

"Separate the yin and the yang,” said Li.

“Create the imbalance,” said Lo.

“And release,” they said in unison.

Azula rolled her eyes and easily shot a bolt of lightning out of one hand, smirking as it hit its mark. The wooden target dummy’s chest smoldered in the distance, and Azula straightened up from her stance.

“Excellent work, Princess Azula,” intoned Lo.

“You are truly a prodigy,” agreed Li.

“Oh, I know,” said Azula, dusting her hands off. She surveyed the line of practice targets that have sustained burn marks in several key areas in satisfaction. “I think that is enough practice for today.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” said the elderly twins, bowing at her as she passed by them on her way out of the bending arena. 

She walked purposefully to the war room, hands behind her back and head held high. The Fire Nation palace was often a desolate, deadly silent place, but Azula had always enjoyed the sound of her footsteps echoing in the cavernous halls— there was power in owning every measured step, every deliberate stride that brought her from one spacious room to another. 

And oh, how she loved surprising unwary ministers and council members, huddled in the shadows of her expansive home, thinking they could get away with all their plotting and politicking by merely hiding away in empty corners, totally oblivious to the way their voices carried down the corridors. 

"...tired of the Fire Lord playing favoritism with Zhao; he doesn't deserve the position! I'm telling you, Minister, my battalion has a better chance of flushing out the Avatar from the Northern Air Temple. We just need the _ right resources. _"

"While I agree that Zhao is a self-absorbed fool, I still maintain that the Fire Lord has no reason to believe General Iroh's information on the 'air walkers' in the Northern Air Temple. We all know the old man has lost his touch. I'd much rather funnel our funds towards Zhao's fleet."

"Good morning, Finance Minister Chen, Lieutenant Colonel Hsiang," Azula greeted, and both men jumped apart as though she bent lightning right in between them.

"Princess Azula," Minister Chen greeted with a stiff bow, and Lieutenant Hsiang followed suit a split-second later. Azula raised her brows imperiously at the two grown men, both almost twice her height, but still very much inferior to her.

"What an interesting conversation you were having, gentlemen," she said, inclining her head. Hsiang swallowed audibly as he straightened up, while Chen pressed his lips into a thin line and held his head high, his pointed beard quivering.

"I was simply explaining how the treasury could not afford Lieutenant Hsiang's request for more battleships, Your Highness," he said smoothly, though Azula noted the tremor in his hands as he clutched them into fists beneath his flowing sleeves.

"Why, yes, of course, Minister," she replied primly, studying her painted nails, "However, I do seem to recall that my father has ordered a thorough search of the Air Temples in the last war meeting, with no expenses to be spared. Am I not correct?"

She caught the triumphant look that Hsiang gave Chen before the minister bowed deeply once more.

"You are correct, Princess," he muttered to the floor.

"Lieutenant Hsiang," she said, and the military man snapped to attention. "In the same war meeting, didn't my father explicitly tell the council that _ Admiral _Zhao was to lead the expedition to the Water Tribes, and to hinder such an important mission was tantamount to treason?"

It was Hsiang's turn to bow deeply.

"I do recall, Your Highness," he said, eyes skittering and sweat forming on his brows.

"It would be bold of me to assume this, gentlemen, but with what little I've heard of your conversation, it seems both of you are not truly honoring your Fire Lord's orders. Now, I wonder: what would my father say when he hears about this?" She walked right past them as she spoke, knowing they would still listen to every word she said. "Would he banish you, or simply strip you of your ranks?"

There was a clamor behind her, but she continued walking resolutely down the hallway, away from their stumbling apologies and excuses. She smiled to herself, wondering what her father would have to say of her accomplishment.

* * *

"Sokka! Where are you?" 

Katara frowned, walking along the reinforced walls of their tribe— _ this used to be the shore; when did we start needing more walls? _ She wove in and out of Earth Kingdom merchants carrying their wares back to their ships, wondering where on earth her brother was, and _ why _on earth he was making them late for dinner, which was definitely a first.

"Your brother's up in the main watchtower." One of the biggest warriors in their tribe, Dakkel, clambered down awkwardly from the wall. A huge chunk of snow came down with him and he groaned, slapping a mittened hand on his forehead. "Tui and La, I just finished fixing that."

"Here, let me," Katara said, bending the snow back up and solidifying it into ice. "You said Sokka was in the main watchtower?"

"Yes, the original one. Amaruk said he left him there after hunting— said we were expecting visitors soon," Dakkel replied, shaking clumps of gray snow from the hood of his parka— the snow in their village was mostly gray now, as though it had gotten used to the soot and had accepted its fate. Dakkel looked at the setting sun and nodded at Katara. "You better hurry. It's nearing curfew."

Katara thanked him before she sprinted to the other side of the village. She was not looking forward to Gran-Gran's lectures about staying out too late— or, spirits forbid, being taken into custody of the Fire Nation soldiers for violating curfew.

"Sokka!" she called, even before she entered the tower. "It's time to go, come on. Gran-Gran roasted the arctic hen you caught!"

"Really?" Her brother's head poked through the window of the watchtower, a gleeful smile on his face. "Oh man, that's awesome! But wait, Katara, I need your help with something. Come up here for a sec."

Curious, Katara made her way into the small room atop the tower, where her brother was peering through a rusty, battered telescope that belonged to their father.

"What's going on?"

"Look at those ships," he said, passing her the telescope. She reluctantly placed the scope close to her eyes— she wasn't comfortable knowing that her father and his men probably got the device from one of the ships they assailed— and squinted at where Sokka was pointing.

She couldn't locate the ships at first— the sun was getting low on the horizon, and its glare reflected harshly on the tundra and the sea— but then she was met with silhouettes of the vessels.

"Whose are they?" Katara said in wonder.

The ships didn’t look like the Fire Nation's steamers— no soot announcing their arrival, no unnatural churns in the water, no imposing structure in the middle. Nor did they look like Earth Kingdom trading galleons— no, these were smaller, more streamlined somehow, more similar to their own sailers.

"I couldn't see the sails; they were too far away," Sokka said, gathering his things and standing up. Katara handed him the telescope and stood as well. A grim look passed between the siblings.

"Do you think they're the Northern warriors that Amaruk was talking about?" Katara asked, hand instinctively reaching for her water skin.

"They _ were _ due to arrive, but I didn't think they'd send _ that _many ships," Sokka scratched his head with his boomerang and fidgeted with his parka. "I was at the council meeting when Dad read the letter Chief Arnook sent. It just said they were sending an 'emissary' to accompany Dad and his 'retinue' back to the North." He laughed nervously and tugged on his wolf tail. "It was so funny, how formal it was, y'know? They treated Dad like he was a king or something. I didn't even really know what retinue meant—"

Katara narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously.

"You're not telling me something."

Sokka deflated and scuffed his boots on the floor, eyes downcast.

"Arnook's letter was an invitation to Yue's wedding," he admitted quietly. 

"Oh, Sokka," Katara said, moving to hug him, but he just shrugged her off with a weak laugh.

"Eh, it's okay. I'm trying to move on, y'know?" He swallowed and grinned too widely that it mildly horrified Katara. "See? Just— just smiling through the pain!"

Katara crossed her arms and looked at him pitifully, and he scowled and puffed his chest up.

"Anyway," he said pointedly, "I'm pretty sure Amaruk was right; the wedding invitation was probably just an excuse for them to come and recruit our warriors. I don't really know why they'd send what looks like a whole fleet of ships, though. Do they think we're such big threats?"

"Knowing those snobby Northerners, they probably just thought we didn't have enough ships," Katara huffed and rolled her eyes. She jerked her thumb at the specks growing on the horizon. "Either way, whoever those are, you have to do your job and let the tribe know that they're arriving."

"Right!" Sokka stepped around her and unhooked the buffalo yak horn from the wall. "Ready?"

Katara plugged her ears with her mittened fingers just as her brother leaned out the window and blew the horn twice. She watched as lanterns flared in the other watchtowers— another difference she had to get used to, now that they were using wax candles from the Fire Nation instead of seal blubber— and joined her brother as he ran down to their father, who was waiting with his men at the foot of the tower.

"Northern sails!" confirmed one of the warriors atop the wall. Hakoda nodded grimly and strode toward the single archway in the wall that led to the port. The men of the tribe followed close behind, forming a line that obstructed the others from view. The Fire Nation soldiers stationed nearby moved to flank the group, an odd fringe of red and metal attached to the blue and fur.

The tribe held its breath as the ships loomed closer— Katara counted three of them in the dimming twilight, not as many as they'd thought, just larger than what they were used to. As the Northerners docked, a column of water shot up from the sea and a slim figure rode it to descend onto the snowy shore.

Katara gasped and elbowed her way through the wall of warriors. There was no mistaking the dour face that greeted her.

"Sifu Pakku?!"  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's Chapter Two! Finally, Toph’s here! I really love writing her— she’s such a little brat that any scene with her is a wild ride, and I’m so excited for what’s to come now that she’s in the picture. Anyway, Toph was the easy part of this chapter; things are heating up in the other characters’ lives and it will continue to grow until shit hits the fan. 
> 
> On another note, Dakkel (which means big in our language and is actually where my name came from) was supposed to be more than a passing character here. He was supposed to have a waterbending toddler, but the more I wrote it, the more it delayed the story's timeline, so… *sigh* kill your darlings, amirite? 
> 
> Anyway, tell what you guys think of this chapter! Cheers!


	3. a wave in the throat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special shoutout to Tamara_vonB on AO3, who commented on every chapter of Book One. I'm so glad you're enjoying this and I hope you stick around for more!
> 
> Anyway, chapter title is from the poem "Word Gifts for an Australian Critic" by Merlinda Carullo Bobis.

Rain pelted down furiously on the pebbly shore. Zuko coughed and heaved, seawater burning its way up his nose and stinging his eyes. He dragged himself away from the choppy waves, his clothes clinging heavily to his body. What remained of his rowing boat washed up beside him, the splintered wood serving as another reminder of his long list of failures.

Needless to say, things had not gone according to plan.

Zuko gritted his teeth at the memory. It stung more than the scratches and bruises that he was bound to have. 

It had all been going smoothly— well, as smoothly as things had ever done for Zuko. He had gone quite a ways away from the Academy, the mountains already obscuring the large building from his view. He continued west, keeping the curved edges of the island in sight, checking his map constantly to make sure that he didn't stray too far from the gulf that would eventually lead to the Great Gates of Azulon. It was good progress; for someone who hadn't truly struck out on his own before, he had gone leaps and bounds beyond what he'd known his whole life.

And then the rains started.

Zuko wasn't a stranger to the Fire Nation's summer rains. They came heavy and they came swift, with lightning and thunder accompanying them every few seconds. The first bout passed without any incident, other than the fact that his map got reduced to a useless pile of mush because of the sudden downpour. He'd barely gotten his bearings and steamed himself dry with his firebending before the second round of rains began.

It had lasted longer than Zuko thought it would. The torrential rainfall blurred what little land he could see in the horizon and the turbulent waves threw him and his tiny boat up and down and who knows where else. It took all his willpower to hold onto his bag and his swords— which would probably be rusted through if he didn't clean them soon— and he'd hung on instinctively to one of his oars in order to float as the waves threw him overboard. 

Zuko didn't know how he had survived, given what luck he had, but he wasn't about to look a gift ostrich horse in the beak. The weather was slightly calmer now, the rain letting up just enough for him to take stock of his predicament.

He was definitely far from the Academy now, although he wasn't sure if he had somehow ended up on the mainland or in one of the island villages that surrounded the Academy. Up ahead of him, he could see that the beach led to a sparse woodland, and beyond that was the hazy outline of a small village. 

Zuko sighed and ran a hand over his face. He wrung his phoenix tail dry before tugging his cloak from his sodden bag and slinging it over his dripping clothes as best as he could— he couldn't be too careful; wherever he was, whatever his father might have thought of him, he was still the prince of the Fire Nation, and there were still some groups in the colonies that would love to send him piece by piece to the Fire Lord. 

He stumbled into the woods as best as he could in the rain, but what little movement he made seemed to aggravate the lungfuls of seawater he had inhaled, and soon he found himself doubled over and retching all over his boots.

"Oh, you poor dear," said a voice behind him, and Zuko jumped right into his puddle of sick. He turned to see an elderly woman, hunched and wrinkled and only slightly older than his uncle, smiling at him from underneath an umbrella and carrying an empty wicker basket. Her tone was kind, but there was something in her rheumy eyes and her gap-toothed smile that made Zuko tremble.

"We don't get many travelers like you around here," the old woman continued, and he reflexively hunched in on himself, trying to hide his scar. "Did the storm throw you off course?"

"I'm just passing through," he said, trying to edge away, but she took a step forward for every step backwards he made. "Ah, where— could you tell me—"

"This is the village of Sayuri," the woman said, gesturing towards the direction of the settlement. "My name is Hama; I run the inn here. You're welcome to stay for a night or two— it is incredibly dangerous out here, all on your own."

"I can handle myself," said Zuko defensively, but Hama just smiled thinly at him.

"I'm sure you can, sonny, but there have been quite a few mysterious disappearances in our town," she said, and the chill that Zuko felt seeped right into his bones. "You're lucky you 'passed through' on a new moon, but it's always best to sleep with a shelter above your head."

"Wh-what happens if it's not a new moon?" he asked, already regretting his own question. This old lady was giving him the creeps, and the sooner he finds a boat to the mainland, the better.

"Oh, nothing to worry yourself about, dear," said Hama with a dismissive wave of his hand. She held up her empty basket and gave Zuko a shrewd look. "Now, why don't you accompany me to the market? I assume you'll also be looking to restock your supplies, hm?"

"Oh, I think, uh, I'm good on the supplies," Zuko said, not wanting to get roped into shopping with this stranger. "Actually, I— I might not stay the night. Are there any boats here that I could hire, or—"

"Nonsense!" exclaimed Hama, latching onto his arm with a surprisingly strong grip. "This storm will last through the night; no one will sail in this weather."

"How do you know it will last through the night?" asked Zuko suspiciously, trying to tug himself from her grasp. "It's summer! This will all clear up in a few hours!"

"I can smell it in the air, my dear," Hama said, her clouded eyes glinting with something like glee. Sweat broke on Zuko's brow and he swallowed down the bile rising in his throat. He hoped his fear didn't show on his face— why was he so afraid of a frail old woman? 

She released her grip on him and deftly handed him her umbrella and basket. She turned slightly and beckoned him to follow with a veiny, claw-like hand.

"Now, come along. You have to tell me what you want for dinner."

Zuko sighed in frustration and hurried to her side, wondering how im Agni's name he was going to get out of this mess.

* * *

The Southern Water Tribe was less impressive than Pakku thought, and he'd already thought so little of it in the first place.

It was small, its walls woefully lacking the reinforcements that his tribe had, and their warriors seemed too undisciplined, what with the way they stood, their stances unprepared. He could tell just by looking at them that they relied merely on brute force rather than strategy. 

"Honored delegates," said the man at the forefront, and Pakku assumed this was Chief Hakoda— he hadn't been a sifu during the chief's time in the Academy, so he wouldn't know the man, but Pakku would be lying if he said he wasn't intrigued by him.

Hakoda was, after all, Kanna's son.

"Chief Hakoda," Pakku stepped forward and inclined his head ever so slightly. He heard his fellow Northern tribesmen disembark onto the measly port. The captain of his ship, Nanook, lumbered beside him, grasping the chief's proffered forearm in greeting.

"It seems the winds have favored your travels," Hakoda commented, nodding at the other Northern warriors as they stepped up behind Pakku. 

"Travel is easier with our skilled waterbenders on board," said another captain, Aput, leading his men forward. Pakku did not miss the grim look that passed over Hakoda's face.

"Ah, yes, I suppose it is," the chief said, before turning to the man beside him. "Bato, why don't you and Dakkel show our guests to the longhouse? I'm sure they will want to rest before the feast."

Bato nodded at the group before waving for them to follow. Pakku frowned at the lack of warmth in the gesture— were the Southerners simply distrusting of foreigners, or was this wariness borne of their history with the North?

No matter. Diplomacy was Pakku's job here, and his job was what he would do, no matter how inhospitable the Southerners act.

"Sifu Pakku!"

A young girl came rushing toward him, a thin boy armed with a boomerang on her heels. They both skidded to a stop before him, and in his mind, Pakku tried to place how he knew these two children— until the torchlight of a passing Fire Nation soldier illuminated the necklace on the girl's throat.

"Girl," he greeted, because honestly, it was nearly impossible to keep track of his students' names after a decade or so of teaching. "So, this is the fearsome tribe you were blathering on about?"

The girl bristled, but held her chin high. Her sibling scowled and tensed beside her, twirling his weapon in what seemed to be a vaguely threatening manner.

"Yes, it is," his student replied, back straight, feet firmly planted on the snow. In spite of himself, Pakku felt proud— _ this _was how a trained warrior looked like, whatever gender they may be: grounded and fiery, ready to adapt to whatever circumstance thrown at them.

"What a charming little village," he commented dryly, striding past her. He eyed his surroundings disdainfully. "Now, why don't you show me around, that I may see what makes the South so _ preferable _over the North, hm?"

The girl narrowed her eyes at him, and once again Pakku was struck by how much she acted like Kanna back in the day— so fueled by the need to prove herself to the world, to show that she was so much more than what others thought of her. He folded his hands into his sleeves and looked at her critically, testing if his lessons on controlling her emotional bending bore fruit.

When she didn't sigh anything but a puff of air (and he had seen her freeze a classmate with her breath), Pakku nodded to himself. The girl was a talented bender, to say the least. He had been right to take her under his tutelage.

"We could show you to the longhouse, where the rest of the Northerners are," her sibling cut in, his voice cracking from false cheerfulness. Pakku pursed his lips.

"That won't be necessary," he replied, gesturing towards the building in the distance. "I can quite clearly see where it is."

"Wow, his crankiness doesn't let up even when school's out of session, huh?" he heard the boy mutter to his sister, who tried to muffle her laughter with her hand. Pakku rolled his eyes exasperatedly as he made his way to the longhouse, following the trail his fellow tribesmen left.

He had barely reached the building when another young man caught up to him, kicking up a flurry of snow in his wake.

"The tribal elders are in the lodge, waiting to welcome you," said the young man, panting as he bowed. Pakku appraised him with a sharp eye— he was old enough to have been at the Academy during the Southern Revolt. His frown deepened. It was a shame that the Southern Water Tribe warriors were sent home during that particular stand-off; this young man needed to be whipped into shape.

"Very well. Lead me to them."

"Uh, however—" the young man stuttered, still deep in his bow, "I had been asked by one of the matriarchs to… um, 'hold you off for a bit.'"

"Matriarch?" The word was unfamiliar on Pakku's tongue.

The young man didn't seem to realize. He just nodded and finally stood straight. 

"She mentioned 'having words' with you, sir," he shrugged uneasily before glancing behind Pakku and nodding. "That's my cue to leave."

Pakku scowled— were the Southerners really this mannerless? He had expected a cold reception from his student, but this— no proper etiquette in dealing with foreigners, no manners when talking to visiting dignitaries—

"Pakku, there you are, you dour old coot."

Pakku whipped around at the voice. It was ancient, gravelly with age, but he would know that voice anywhere.

"Kanna?"

She smiled wryly at him— the same way she smiled at him years and years ago, and he was surprised at how young his heart felt again, beating hard and fast in his chest.

"You look like you've seen a ghost and not an old friend," she commented, approaching slowly. "I am no ghost, Pakku."

"Could have fooled me, with the way you disappeared," croaked out Pakku. 

Kanna snorted in the most unladylike manner.

"Come now," she chided. "When I heard you were with the Northern delegation, I had hoped you'd let the past stay as such. We have very little future left, with our age; I suggest we look ahead, hm?"

"And yet you stayed the same, Kanna." Her words seemed to thaw him out of his shock. "How do you propose to 'look ahead' when you are still who you once were?"

Kanna drew herself up as much as her age would let her, and the look she gave Pakku was one of a warrior's, not a woman's.

"You confuse foresight with stagnation, Pakku," she said, flint in her eyes. "Who I am at my core has not changed, and I suggest you remember that, if you are so bent on remembering the past."

Pakku bowed deeply in what he hoped was a dry mimicry of respect.

"Well then. Why don't you show me where your foresight brought you, _ matriarch?" _

"It has brought me peace and respect, old man," Kanna said, waving him toward the communal lodge. "Don't pretend you have either of those for me; my eyes are old, but I can see the difference between sincerity and mockery." 

"Allow me to be candid, then, Kanna," he said, a hint of bitterness in his voice, "Was this—" he gestured at her small, nondescript village, in all its bleakness and modesty— "Was all of this worth it?"

Kanna chuckled, and in her eyes he could clearly see that they were not looking at the same village; she saw value and significance where he could not, and had that not been the reason why he loved her, all those years ago?

"Oh, the families we choose for ourselves are worth more than you'll ever know, Pakku," she said, before tucking her hand into the crook of his arm and ducking into the entryway of the lodge.

* * *

"Yi-kai, that katana is _ not a toy," _warned Suki dangerously, and the younger Kyoshi Warrior straightened up and sheathed her weapon guiltily. Suki nodded in approval. "Get your forms down first before waving that around; we don't need you or anyone else getting wounded, you hear me?"

"Oh, ease up on her, Suki," Jia piped up reproachfully from her left side. "She passed the Academy's exam; she knows how to handle her sword."

"Fine," exhaled Suki, snapping her own fans closed. She mustered a smile at the other warriors. "I think we've had enough training for today, anyway. Good job, girls!"

The noise of fans and swords being sheathed followed her words, and the rest of the Kyoshi Warriors filed out of the dojo, chatting amongst themselves. Suki hung up her own katana on the racks, preparing to follow them, but Jia's hand on her shoulder stopped her in her tracks.

"Look, Suki…" the younger warrior looked hesitant, but she forged on. "I know you're worried about being the captain after Minh, but you're gonna do great. You don't have to be so tough on the new recruits."

"I know, I know," Suki said, abashed. She tucked her hair behind her ear and sighed wearily. "I'm just worried, y'know? We haven't heard from Minh and her tour of duty's been done for over a year now. She and the other girls should've been back home before we even left the Academy this summer."

"I'm sure they're fine," Jia assured her, but there was an underlying note of anxiety in her voice as well. "They're a tough bunch, and they won't leave anyone behind."

"That's why I'm so worried!" Suki exclaimed, throwing her hands up. "What if something went wrong and they had to stay longer in General Fong's base because someone got hurt?"

"Then we must take comfort in the fact that they're all together," said Ling's unmistakable reedy voice from the entrance. She leaned against the door frame and crossed her arms. "C'mon, Suki. You can't think like this. You know that."

"Easier said than done," Suki replied, slumping against the wooden wall of the dojo. "Maybe I'm just not cut out for this. Remind me again why you turned down Oyaji when he asked you to be captain?"

"Are you kidding?" The older girl shrugged her thin shoulders and smirked. "Who wants to take on such a big responsibility?"

Suki groaned and Jia tried to hide her smile behind her hand. She patted her captain's back comfortingly.

"You know what would cheer you up?" said Jia, without waiting for an answer, "Wuqing went to the hawkery earlier and some of them are back! You can finally send your letters to Katara!"

Suki perked up at that.

"Oh, finally!" She pushed off the wall and rummaged excitedly through one of the drawers of the table situated in her corner of the dojo. She tossed out bits and pieces of clutter in her search for her rolled and bound letter. "I've been meaning to send this for _ ages; _ they don't really keep any messenger hawks in the South, so I had to be the first one to write her."

Jia and Ling exchanged sly glances behind her back.

"Are you only writing to _ her?" _ asked Jia teasingly. "'Cause, y'know, it might be weird if you didn't write a letter to her _ brother, _too."

Suki started and accidentally pricked her index finger on something sharp inside the drawer. She sucked on her finger and turned back to her friends, narrowing her eyes at them and blushing furiously. 

Jia and Ling grinned unabashedly.

"I am _ not _writing to Sokka," Suki said fiercely.

"Oh, why?" asked Ling with a smirk. "Are you _ too scared _he won't write back?"

"Oh, please, I don't even know if he _ could _write," said Suki, rolling her eyes and continuing her search. "He can be really stupid sometimes, y'know?"

"Uh-huh, right," nodded Jia, popping up beside her and poking her in the ribs. "Isn't it kinda cute, though, when boys are stupid in an endearing kind of way?"

Suki stopped her rummaging long enough to remember Sokka tripping over nothing during their late night training sessions with Katara— he always tried to cover up his awkward fall with an even awkwarder gesture and explanation. The memory made her want to both smile and slap a hand to her forehead.

"Yeah, I guess he _ could _ be kinda cute," she mused absently, unaware of the twin smiles on her friends' faces. "He's really clumsy and says the weirdest things, but yeah, it's kinda really cute when he does that."

"He's really funny, too," added Ling, exchanging a glance with Jia.

"Oh, definitely," agreed Suki, peering into the recesses of the near-empty drawer. "Some of his jokes annoy Katara, but I think it's part of his charm. He's really good at cheering up people, and he's not down for very long, you know?"

"Plus, he's a good warrior, right?" Jia said, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Of course he is," Suki replied, extracting her scroll from where it was wedged in the far end of the drawer. "I really enjoy our spars; his boomerang is a lot similar to our fans. I actually learn a lot just by training with him. I kinda miss it, actually."

"Do you miss it, or do you miss _ him?" _Jia squeals giddily, making Suki redden to the roots of her hair.

"Jia!" she gasped, affronted. On her other side, Ling snorted and threw one arm around her shoulders.

"If you have so much to say about him," the older girl said dryly, "Why don't you tell him all of it in a letter?"

"It's—" Suki's mouth twisted into a bitter frown, "It's complicated, you guys. He doesn't like me that way, okay? He'll probably _ never _ like me _ that _way. I'm just not his type."

"Oh, how could you say that!" Jia exclaimed, grasping her hand and looking up at her with huge green eyes. "Of _ course _ he'll like you! You're a really _ awesome _ person, and he already spends a lot of time with you!"

"Look, it's not that big a deal!" Suki laughed, prying her hands from her friend. "But, fine, if you think it's weird that I don't write him, too, then I'll add something to my letter to Katara, okay?"

She picked up one of the bamboo quills that had rolled onto the floor when she was searching for her letter, and Jia excitedly unscrewed a pot of ink and set it carefully on the table. She and Ling peered over Suki's shoulder as the girl hunched over the parchment, the former lightly jumping from one foot to another. Suki chewed at the end of her quill before finally scratching out a postscript.

"'P.S. Say hi to Sokka for me, hope he's not eating all your seal jerky,'" read Ling over her shoulder. She scowled in dismay. "That sucks, Suki!"

"What? He _ really _ does eat a lot of seal jerky! And egg custards! Have you _ seen _him at lunch? He eats like a hibernating platypus bear!" Suki exclaimed. Ling raised an eyebrow at her and folded her arms over her chest.

"I've never seen you this awkward with a guy you like," she pointed out. "You're usually really upfront about these kinds of things. What's the big hold-up?" 

"He has a thing with the Northern Water Tribe princess!" Suki burst out, nearly crushing the pen in her hand. She sighed despondently and gently laid down the quill on the table. "I can't _ really _ be forward with him; he's still sad about her getting married and stuff. Besides, she's a princess, you guys— how am I supposed to compete with _ that?" _

Ling and Jia briefly looked at each other before they both engulfed Suki in a hug. Suki laughed ruefully.

"Thanks, guys," she said, patting their backs. "Let's just go to the hawkery and send this, okay?"

The three of them walked out of the dojo arm in arm, heading for the steeple-roofed structure across their village's small plaza. It was getting quite late; the merchants that had set up their stalls in the market were already packing up their wares, and the lone tavern in the corner was steadily getting fuller. Children waved at the Kyoshi Warriors as their parents ushered them into their houses, and Jia giggled as some of the boys their age winked as they passed. 

Suki just rolled her eyes with a sm-ile and entered the hawkery, blinking a few times as her eyes adjusted to the light.

"Cao?" she called as she stepped up to the counter, the screeches and flapping of wings competing with her voice. "Hey, Cao!"

A thin, gangly boy ducked from behind the heavy, dark curtain behind the counter, and he beamed toothily at the three girls as soon as he saw them.

"Well, 'ello there, Ling, Suki, Jia," he greeted warmly. "What can I do fer ya today?"

"I'd like to send a letter to the South Pole," said Suki, sliding her scroll and three yuans onto the counter.

"South Pole, eh? Heard it's mighty cold there," commented Cao, tucking the scroll into a bamboo tube and closing it tightly. "What'cha doin' sendin' letters to the South Pole, Suki?"

"Oh, y'know, made some friends at the Academy," replied Suki with a smirk. "Don't you worry, Cao, your hawk's gonna come back in no time, I promise."

"It better," drawled Cao, "Have ya seen how many hawks Gov'nor Oyaji's been sendin'? Me birds must've had Ba Sing Se memorized by now."

"Ba Sing Se?" Ling interjected. "Who's in Ba Sing Se?"

Cao's brows furrowed in confusion.

"Whaddaya mean, who's in Ba Sing Se? Minh and Chun and Yulo and all them other girls!"

Suki and her companions exchanged shocked looks before they took off for the governor's house, leaving Cao yelling behind them, "'Ey, ya forgot yer change! Ah, well, guess I'm just gonna keep 'em."

* * *

Cheers, calls, and claps from the excited crowd shook the underground arena, reaching a fever pitch as the unmistakable rumble of earthbending thundered over the audience's applause. 

"Welcome to Earth Rumble Six!" Xin Fu roared. "I am your host, Xin Fu!"

"Ya ready to be blasted again by some sissy, Takke?" Toph called out over the noise that filtered backstage. The rotund man, dressed in nothing but a red cape and red pants, laughed heartily.

"Ah, please, The Boulder ain't no sissy," He picked up his prop— a Fire Nation flag— and twirled it around experimentally. "All the kids are bettin' on him." 

"If they think The Boulder could beat me, then they're a bunch of stupid lil pansies like him," Toph snorted, propping her feet up on the stone seat she erected in front of her, and purposefully raising some earth to trip The Hippo, who scowled at her and muttered, "Hippo mad," before skulking to join his friends.

Xin Fu called for Fire Nation Man on stage, and Takke stretched and held his flag aloft.

"Here I go," he said. "See ya in two minutes!"

Toph yawned and tucked her hands behind her head, picking at her toes once in a while as Xin Fu announced rival after rival. Toph didn't mind waiting for her turn, though— it gave her plenty of time to get a read on her opponents, even though she'd been facing the same lot since Earth Rumble III. 

"The Boulder's rocking it tonight," commented Gecko as he slunk into the room, clutching his stomach. He peeled off his bright green mask with a pained hiss. "Gopher, gimme somethin' for the pain, will ya?"

The Gopher took a swig from his flask before handing it to Gecko, who slumped down with a sigh beside Toph. The former turned to the blind girl with a smirk.

"With the rate The Boulder's going, you'll have to say goodbye to your favorite toy," he said, nodding to the Earth Rumble belt that laid on Toph's lap. "Too bad you can't drink away your pain yet, kid."

"'S okay, Baldie, it already cheers me up when I hear you cry for your mommy every time I beat your ass," Toph drawled lazily, getting to her feet at the sound of rocks smashing against the wall just outside. 

As she stepped onto the platform, a hush fell over the anticipating crowd. She held up her prized belt over her head, smirking to herself. All of these dorks were just kidding themselves. _ No one _would get this from her.

"Now, the moment you've all been waiting for…" Xin Fu announced, "The Boulder versus… The Blind Bandit!"

Cheers erupted from the audience, some of them chanting The Boulder's name over the din, but Toph wasn't hearing any of that. She handed off her championship belt to one of the girls that Xin Fu hired.

"Don't you _ dare _get a scratch on that, ya hear me?" Toph commanded. "'Cause I'll know if you did!"

The girl sighed as she stalked off. Toph turned back to her opponent, who was going through his usual spiel.

"The Boulder feels conflicted about fighting a young blind girl," he said, and the crowd roared in agreement, calling for The Blind Bandit's disqualification.

"Ha!" Toph called out, pointing in his direction mockingly. "Sounds to me you're _ scared, _Boulder!"

She didn't need sight to know that he was incensed now. 

"The Boulder," he announced, "is over his conflicted feelings, and now he's ready to bury you in a rockalanche!"

"Whenever you're ready," Toph cackled, planting her feet on the arena, _ "The Pebble!" _

"It's _ on!" _ The Boulder yelled, and Toph smirked at his bravado— there was a tremor in his hands as he held them up, his heart rate was faster than usual, and he was quickly losing the energy in his legs from all the fights he'd gone through.

_ This is gonna be _ so _ easy. _

The Boulder shouted as he strode forward— she shifted her foot and raised her hands to her waist, anticipating his attack— he still hadn't noticed she was making her move, still hadn't veered away from the trajectory of her strike— she grinned and slammed her foot into the ground, churning up the floor and forcing The Bandit's legs into a wide split.

After that, it was just a matter of pushing stalagmites from the arena and sending her opponent crashing into the wall beneath the stands. The crowd whistled and jeered, and Toph smiled in satisfaction.

"Your winner, and still the champion—"

"FIRE NATION!" yelled Takke from backstage, and Xin Fu shot him a glare.

"We're not declaring _ you _champion, you imbecile!" he hissed. Takke made panicked moves with his hands.

"No! Xin Fu, there are _ Fire Nation soldiers _outside!"

"What?" Xin Fu moved from the spotlight and stomped angrily towards Takke. "Who _ told _those bastards about our hideout?"

The crowd started murmuring anxiously, a couple of people here and there hollering questions at Xin Fu. Takke glanced nervously at Toph and lowered his voice.

"The— the _ Beifongs _are accompanying them," he whispered, but Toph already heard.

"What the _ hell?" _ she exclaimed, rushing to Takke's side in a wave of earth. "What are _ they _doing here?" 

Xin Fu made a sound of frustration before coming back onstage and coaxing everyone out of the cave. Toph stood still for a moment, trying to calm her racing heart, before blowing her hair out of her face and making a rockslide leading directly towards Xin Fu's office. 

It was an open secret amongst the professional Earth Rumble fighters that Toph was not just a waif from the streets who stumbled upon their arena and pummelled every single one of them to the ground. It was actually Headhunter who found out first after a particularly nasty battle where he lost all his prize money to The Bandit— on his way trailing the tiny girl home, Toph had encased him in earth and threatened to bury him alive if he so much as breathed around her parents. Naturally, everyone else heard of the warning the very next night.

She didn’t even want to _ think _about what her parents would do if they found out she’d been sneaking out to fight competitively in an illegal bending tournament.

Toph barged into Xin Fu’s office under the cover of the milling crowd. She blasted a hole into the wall and crept in, slamming her foot once to find the spot where Xin Fu had earthbent his money box for safekeeping. She quickly slid apart the stone and tucked the wooden box under her arm, but before she could take another step, she heard the unmistakable _ click _of the lock turning. Toph jumped into the box’s crevice, leaving just a sliver of a gap in the stone so she could hear what’s happening.

“...you’re mistaken!” came Xin Fu’s voice. “There is _ nothing _illegal about a bunch of friends drinking out here in the middle of the night! Curfew is for minors only!”

There was a snort and a thud, followed by a pained grunt. Metallic boots clinked across the floor.

“Give it up, earthbender, we’ve already caught you red-handed,” a gruff voice said as the sounds of more people in heavy metal armor flooded into the room. “You’re running a betting ring on Fire Nation territory!"

"No, no, I swear, it's not a betting ring!" cried Xin Fu desperately. "Al-although, I have some gold pieces saved up— if you and your boys—"

"Enough!" cut in the soldier. "We'll see what the warden has to say about this."

"What about our daughter?" a woman asked piteously. Toph's breath caught in her throat and she huddled in on herself. _ Mom. _ "You said you'd help us find her if we led you here!"

"If your little rugrat is seen with these hooligans, ma'am, there's nothing we can do to protect her," answered the soldier sharply. 

"You can't be serious!" she gasped. "She's just a _ child!" _

"No one has seen her in the area yet, Poppy," interjected another male voice. Toph closed her eyes with a muffled groan. _ Of course _her father was here, too. "Maybe those children we asked were wrong, after all."

"Search the room," the Fire Nation soldier commanded. "See if you can find the _ money _ that _ this one—" _another thud and another pained yelp from Xin Fu— "scrounged up."

"I-I can show you where it is!" Xin Fu panted. "If— if you lower my charges—"

"It is for _ evidence, _you blathering old fool," said the soldier scathingly. There was a blast of what sounded like flames and Xin Fu screamed. "Get him out of my sight. Make sure he and the other clowns don't get away."

Toph waited until Xin Fu's whimpers faded before stealthily constructing a tunnel out of the place. Thank the spirits the ringleader's office was near the entrance— she only had to crawl a couple of paces before she arrived at a relatively isolated place beyond the Earth Rumble cave.

A couple of footsteps up ahead alerted her that she wasn't as alone as she'd thought. She sunk into the earth again, straining her ears. If these were soldiers, she could easily incapacitate them the minute they stepped over her hiding place—

"How could she even get mixed up in all of this, Lao?" she heard her mother say. "Surely those horrible posters have got it all wrong! Master Yu's been keeping her private lessons to the basics! She's just a blind, helpless little girl!"

Toph scowled at the words and clutched her prize money tighter. She wished she had the chance to grab her championship belt along the way, too. That'll show them.

"We've let her have far too much freedom," her father replied gravely. Toph snorted. _Too much freedom? _Her father's idea of "too much freedom" was locking her up in her bedroom and letting the servants feed her! She stuck her tongue out distastefully as her father spoke again. "Once we find her, she'll be cared for and guarded twenty-four seven. It will be for her own good, especially now that the Fire Nation is also after her."

Toph's jaw dropped at that. 

"No! No way!" she screamed, hurling a hunk of stone from the ground and into the tunnel she made. Her breath came in harsh pants. She was fine pretending to be the fragile girl they thought she was because before, she still had the Earth Rumble— but now? No fights, no earthbending, and she'll basically be treated like a prisoner every single hour for the rest of her life? 

"I've gotta get outta here," she muttered to herself, wrenching a hefty boulder out of her way and feeling through the earth around her.

If her parents sensed anything amiss underground, she didn't care. She heaved a huge breath and pushed at the earth in front of her with all her might, producing a long, winding tunnel that led to the Gaoling port.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the Earth Rumble episode! Toph is such a delight to write. Anyway, on another note, I don't actually know the name of Hama's village, so I named it Sayuri, after orange lilies, which are the closest I could get to fire lilies. Or at least, that's what the internet has told me lol. Tell me what you guys think of this chapter! And I promise, there will be so much more Zutara soon! Cheers!


	4. the mute can debate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit for the chapter title goes to Merlinda Carullo Bobis’ Politics: “the deaf are gathering / in the plaza / so the mute can debate / in the plaza / the fate / of one beloved nation.”

She was set to be married in a week.

Yue's stomach twisted at the idea. While custom dictated that she and her betrothed— the word still sent bile up her throat— were not to see each other until their wedding day, Yue still couldn't wrap her head around what was supposed to happen _ afterwards, _ despite her mother's attempts to assuage her anxiety. Her chambermaids, her etiquette tutor, even her seamstress— they all seemed to have some piece of advice that did nothing to quell the fear in the princess's mind. 

On top of all that, she still had no clue as to her father's plans when the Southern delegation arrived. The Fire Nation soldiers that patrolled their streets gave no indication that something sinister was brewing on the horizon, but she honestly wouldn't put it past them to overturn her father if they found anything remotely treasonous in his actions. Once again, Yue wondered at her father's logic— yes, protecting their home from the Regime of Fire was paramount, especially if there were evidence of transgression on the Fire Lord's part, but to sacrifice their sister tribe as well? Didn't they have enough warriors in the North? Did her father think so little of their brave men? Why include the Southern warriors as well?

Her room was growing dark. She was vaguely aware that her relentless pacing had scruffed up the ice floor. Exhausted, mind spinning with the same unanswerable questions, Yue dropped onto her bed and burrowed into her pelts, falling into an uneasy sleep. 

She dreamed that she was encased in an ice cage— no amount of bending could break its translucent walls, and every now and then, people would pass by and ogle at her as she lay powerless on the cold floor. She saw Sokka's face in the crowd, and she shouted out, asking for help, but the boy just looked mournfully at her and vanished. Then Hahn appeared and tapped on the icy wall, leering maliciously as she startled.

"Stop it," Yue muttered as the tapping pounded in her sore head, "Leave me alone… please… I'm trying to sleep—"

She opened her eyes, silver moonlight filtering in from her window. Blearily, she scanned the room, trying to figure out what woke her in the first place. 

The tapping continued, and Yue blinked as she saw a face peering through her window. The face grinned at her cheekily.

"Gumi?"

Her friend pressed a finger to her lips, warily looking over her shoulder. She relaxed after a moment and melted part of Yue's wall— the princess was surprised to see that Gumi was standing on a column of water, much like the one Sifu Pakku taught them. 

"What are you doing here?" whispered Yue, sliding out of her bed. Gumi guided her water column back to the canals without so much as a splash.

"I'm busting you out!" she whispered back giddily. "At least, just for tonight. So you wouldn't have to practice alone."

"How did you know—" began the princess, but Gumi tugged on her hand and led her to the hole she created.

"I heard Dad's friends talking about it," Gumi replied in a low voice. "I don't think it's fair that they think we have no right to use our bending for anything other than healing, especially since Sifu Pakku already started teaching us combative moves. Let's go!"

"Gumi, if my parents find out—" stuttered Yue, gathering her trailing robes and looking down at the three-storey drop before her, "Father would get so angry, and it might jeopardize my union with Hahn—"

"Oh, relax, Princess Yue, we'll be back before dawn," said Gumi, calling up the water once more. "Besides, I know this secluded place where no one would think to look for us— it's where Dad and his buddies smoke their tundra cotton after going on a hunt. They won't be there tonight, they just had a big haul yesterday."

Yue looked back at her room uncertainly. 

She was set to be married in a week, and this was the most freedom she could get before then.

She sighed and nodded at her friend, jumping into the pillar of water that awaited the two of them.

* * *

The old woman was a persistent hag, Zuko decided.

She'd steered him all over the marketplace, asking him insinuating questions that he tried to ignore in favor of sulky silence. When asking relentlessly led her nowhere, she just dug her veiny old claws further into his arm and dragged him to even more stalls, insisting on making him carry the produce she'd plucked from several vendors. It was really annoying and insulting, but even more than that, Zuko still couldn't shake the creepy feeling he had when she'd come across him.

"Would you care for spiced tea, dear?" Hama commented, perusing a selection of tea leaves in various jars. Zuko hefted her full wicker basket in his arms and shook his head mutely. She clucked her tongue disapprovingly at him before purchasing a bag of leaves, anyway.

Zuko was beginning to wonder when he'd make it back to this inn of hers— he _ was _still a little waterlogged from having crashed on the coast— when a disturbance from the village's plaza gained the attention of everyone nearby, and Hama stepped back with a hiss.

The crowd parted for the newcomer, and Zuko gasped.

"Uncle!"

Iroh was striding towards him, a severe look on his face. Zuko gulped. He'd only ever seen this side of his uncle back in his childhood, when Iroh had still been a general with a fearsome army at his back.

_ I'm in so much trouble. _

"Uncle, I—" he began, but as his uncle neared, Zuko realized that the stormy expression was not directed at _ him, _but at the old woman who had shrunk in on herself beside him. It seemed all her persistence had evaporated into a picture of frailty.

"Master Hama," began Iroh gravely, his expression still thunderous. Zuko started at his greeting— _ Uncle knows this hag? Why is he calling her a master?— _but his uncle was speaking once more. "It seems we have some accounts to settle. May we speak in the privacy of your inn?"

"Yes, of course, _ General," _sneered the old woman, before sharply turning on her heel and marching in the direction of a decrepit building across the village.

"Uncle, what's going on?" Zuko asked, but his uncle took his elbow and led him towards Hama's Inn in silence. A look around revealed that several Fire Nation soldiers were shooing curious merchants back to their stalls. Those muttering to each other about the Dragon of the West's presence were promptly whipped by the guards. 

Ahead of them, Hama wrenched open the door to her inn, shuttering the windows before they even entered the building. Iroh closed the door tightly behind him and Zuko, and stood imperiously before Hama, who had dropped her frail act and was watching both of them with a disgusted twist on her lips.

"You have plenty to answer for, Hama," Iroh began bluntly. "What is this I hear about you breaking your oath?"

Zuko opened his mouth to ask either of them to explain, but the old woman rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. 

"I am guilty of nothing, Grandmaster," she said, steel in her cold, clouded eyes. "I have found your nephew and kept him safe, just as you asked."

"It is not only my nephew that I have asked protection for," said Iroh, drawing himself up to his full height. "Why have you restarted your meaningless _ crusade, _Hama?"

"You and your _ wretched _ Order have done _ nothing _for the balance of this world," she hissed venomously. "I am just righting the wrongs you are too afraid to face."

"They are innocent men and women!" roared Iroh, and Zuko jumped back at his tone, heart hammering in his chest, still ignorant of the gist of the conversation before him.

"They are of the same blood as those who took my brothers and sisters from me!" shrieked the old woman, pushing herself close to Iroh threateningly.

"The _ Order _already took care of those involved in the capture of your people," Iroh responded unflinchingly, staring her down. "Do I need to remind you what else the Order has done for you, Master Hama? Need I remind you whose inn you are tending?"

Hama's nostrils flared and she glared at Iroh with such contempt before backing away and spitting at the floor.

"There are rumors… whispers and murmurs of terrible things about to befall my people, and you are doing _ nothing," _she seethed. Iroh sighed heavily and folded his hands into his sleeves.

"We are all but pieces in the Pai Sho game of life," he replied sagely. "Our place is not to know, but to act when called upon."

"And who calls upon the pieces, Grandmaster?" Hama replied spitefully. "You have spent all these years sitting idly while our enemies gather more forces. What use is your precious Order?"

Iroh's gaze flitted to Zuko, who pressed his lips into a thin line. There were so many things he didn't understand about this whole interaction, and his uncle's reaction— his uncle's_ distrust— _left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Perhaps this is a conversation for another time," Iroh finally said, and to Zuko's surprise, Hama relented. She started shuffling away, beckoning Zuko with a bony finger, and Zuko shot his uncle a questioning scowl before following the old woman into a small dining room. She gestured for him to set down her basket of food on the table, her movements sharp and agitated.

"What—" started Zuko, clearing his throat. "What was _ that?" _

Hama cackled humorlessly under her breath.

"You watch out for your uncle, boy," she told him mysteriously. "Don't let him spin you into his web of lies."

"Uncle— Uncle is _ not _ a liar!" shouted Zuko, heart in his throat. "How _ dare _you suggest—"

"Oh, yes, I _ dare, _ Prince Zuko," she replied with a malicious grin. "I _ dare _suggest it, because I know more about the comings and goings of the Dragon of the West."

"Well— well, what about what Uncle said about your— your _ crusades _ on innocent men and women?" Zuko retorted hotly, grasping desperately at the conversation that didn't make sense. "Why should I trust _ your _word over my uncle's? You aren't coming off as honorable as he is, you old hag!"

"You firebenders and your precious _ honor," _scoffed the old woman. "Sometimes, one must dirty their hands for the sake of justice."

"Justice for what?" asked Zuko, but the hard lines on Hama's face made him backtrack. "Look, I don't know what's going on here, but if you are harming innocent people for the sake of _ justice _then it's not justice at all!"

Hama raised an eyebrow, frowning in displeasure.

"You truly are your uncle's nephew," she said pensively, before nodding back towards the antechamber where Iroh stood. "Hurry along, Prince Zuko. Tell the general I have much to think about."

Zuko blinked and stumbled back into the other room, where his uncle was gazing out of the now-open windows, looking every bit as placid as he usually was.

"Uncle?" ventured Zuko tentatively, and Iroh turned to him with a soft smile.

"Ah, nephew, you're done helping Master Hama in the kitchen?"

Zuko nodded and fidgeted with his cloak. He glanced back at the other room.

"She told me to tell you that— that she has much to think about," he said haltingly, peering up at his uncle to gauge his reaction. 

"Oh," Iroh said, eyes wide in surprise. He stroked his beard thoughtfully before smiling hugely at his nephew. "Well, it seems you have gotten to her, my boy. I've never known Master Hama to change her mind without much struggle."

Iroh's compliment fell on deaf ears. The lack of knowledge— and the way Iroh was speaking, as though Zuko still had no say in the situation— made his hackles rise.

"Uncle, none of this is making any sense!" hissed Zuko angrily. "I _ demand _ to know what _ this _is all about!"

Iroh didn't even look the least bit perturbed at his outburst, and he simply looked at his nephew pointedly until Zuko deflated and muttered a reluctant apology under his breath.

His uncle steered him into a lumpy old couch in the corner of the room.

"Nephew, the lotus only opens to those who know her secrets," Iroh said cryptically, and Zuko groaned in exasperation. His uncle held up a finger sternly. "Some mysteries will only reveal themselves in the proper moment, Prince Zuko. One needs to be patient in order to watch the moon flower bloom."

"What does that even _ mean, _ Uncle?" muttered Zuko belligerently. "And it's not just that. How did you even _ find _me?"

Iroh looked at him sadly.

"Well, there was a rather important missive missing from my desk…" he began lightly, and Zuko dropped his head into his hands. Iroh clucked his tongue at him. "What was your plan, Prince Zuko? You will traipse into the mainland? Disguise yourself as a commoner? And then what?"

"And then I'll find the Avatar before Zhao does!" 

"You seem to be missing a few steps," his uncle commented dryly, shaking his head. "You never think things through, nephew."

"I had to do _ something!" _ Zuko almost yelled, his clenched fists smoking from agitation. "I have to regain my _ honor, _ Uncle. For Zhao to just swoop in and— and— and take that chance away from me— this is my _ destiny! _ How _ dare _he—"

"Is it your own destiny? Or is it a destiny someone else has tried to force on you?" Iroh interrupted gently. "Oh, nephew, how many times do I have to tell you? Your honor was never taken away from you. You are more honorable than Zhao could ever hope to be."

Zuko opened his mouth to argue, but Hama appeared in the doorway and nodded at Iroh.

"Food's on the table. Also made spiced tea," she gritted out, and Zuko scowled suspiciously— was she trying to poison them? Iroh, however, smiled genially at the woman.

"Oh, we don't want to overstay our welcome, Master Hama," he said, and Hama frowned at him, almost petulantly.

"It's _ your _ inn, Grandmaster. Stay as long as you want," she replied frostily, shuffling to the exit. "I have business to take care of in the mountains."

"That's good news," muttered Iroh, and Hama shot him another glare before slamming the door shut behind her. 

Iroh stood up with a smile on his face and clapped his hands together.

"Now, then, nephew," he announced, "Why don't we have some of Master Hama's famous spiced tea?" 

* * *

The dap-ay, a circle of rocks in the middle of the village where the tribal leaders usually made important announcements and resolved disputes, was surrounded by people, far more than Katara had seen in her whole life. 

Conflict resolution in her village usually didn't attract too much attention— usually, the council just settled petty offenses and domestic affairs, like that time Kallik, the hide curer, ran off with a younger woman and left his wife and newborn son. 

The only time the dap-ay was this crowded with people was when her father asked the tribe for permission to set sail with all the men to exact revenge on the Fire Nation.

Katara's heart leapt to her throat. That couldn't be the case, could it? Her father wouldn't leave them again. Not when they had just resuscitated the tribe. Not when she and Sokka were now going to the Academy. 

She felt Sokka sidle up beside her. One sidelong glance at him revealed that his face was grim. He hadn't been allowed into the lodge to witness the Northern delegates' meeting with the village elders, and he'd spent the entire night griping about it. After a summer— well, a week, really— of joining the council sessions, he'd felt robbed when their father ushered him out of the meeting.

"Do you think the elders agreed?" Katara whispered to him as they approached the dap-ay. Several of their tribesmen were also murmuring the same question.

Sokka shrugged.

"Doesn't matter if they agreed or not, right?" he said blithely, scowling as he tucked his mittened hands under his arms. "The tribe gets to vote. I just don't know how they're gonna present the whole situation when we've got all these Fire Nation soldiers listening in on us."

"I think that's why Bato invited most of them for a round of moonshine last night," snickered Katara, looking over her shoulder at a guard who was leaning a little too heavily on his spear. Sokka snorted a laugh as the soldier almost toppled over.

"Brothers and sisters," greeted their father, the ceremonial wolfskin cloak hung around his shoulders, making him appear massive and menacing as he stood atop one of the stones in the dap-ay, "I come before you today to ask for your guidance and your blessing. Our kin in the North have come to our home to invite the men of our tribe to their princess's wedding. The elders have decided that it is a worthy endeavor to reach out to our sister tribe and… offer our felicitation."

"Why only the men?" asked Bato's wife, Sampi, and several of tribeswomen echoed her concern. Bato exchanged a glance with Hakoda before placing a hand on his wife's shoulder and addressing those gathered.

"It is a Northern tradition that we have to respect," he said simply, and Katara heard her grandmother scoff behind them and leave.

"Who will care for the women and children when all the men are gone?" questioned another, and a ripple of disgruntled murmurs broke through the crowd— some recounted the days of starvation during the harsh, dark winters, while some expressed their disapproval of the Northerners' proposition outright; some even went so far as to accuse the North of purposefully weakening the Southern Water Tribe.

"My pack," called Hakoda authoritatively, silencing the crowd. "I assure you— you will not be left unguarded. Only a select number of men will accompany the Northern delegation across the world. We will decide, here and now, who will join our group, should there be no objection to… this endeavor."

No one seemed to find any point of objection. Katara glanced around desperately. Surely the rest of the tribe knew what her father was _ really _ asking— for her, it didn't seem enough reassurance that some of the men will stay behind to protect the tribe. They _ had _ to know there were politics involved in all of this. They _ had _to know it was more than just Yue's wedding. 

Sokka seemed to be on the same page as her.

"They're just _ fine _ with it?" he asked quietly, his voice cracking with incredulity. "Don't they know we're basically _ going to war _again?"

"Maybe they don't," Katara breathed in dismay. Their father probably thought it was better for the tribe to know less about their trip to the North Pole. It _ could _provide them some sort of protection— their tribe would seem less involved, like they were just caught in the crosshairs of whatever turmoil there was between the Fire Nation and the Northern Water Tribe.

It made sense to Katara, yes, but she found herself watching in resentment as several of her father's men strode forward and volunteered to join him on the journey. 

“We’ve come of age together, we’ve shared meals together," a large, burly man called Gilak said as he walked to Hakoda's side. "We will sail together, be it in battle or no!"

The other warriors thumped their chests at his proclamation, and Katara felt sick to her stomach. These were the people who knew what lay in store for them— they were part of her father's inner circle, the ones who survived the Southern Revolt, and despite all that, they were still eager to go back and risk their lives for the North? Why were they so eager to leave their own families, their own homes?

"Sis, you okay?" Sokka nudged her with his elbow, and she belatedly realized that she had formed enough snow at her feet to bury both of them up to the shins. 

"Why are they so eager to leave?" she hissed, blinking away the tears that smarted the corners of her eyes. 

Sokka shrugged helplessly as more men joined their father's side.

"Maybe it's their way of being brave," he replied, but Katara shook her head adamantly.

"It's not brave— it's _ selfish _ and _ stupid!" _ She angrily wiped her tears away. "They think the North needs them, but don't they know how much _ we _ need them, too? How can they just leave us behind?"

Sokka turned to her in surprise.

"Whoa, you're talking about someone else now, aren't you?" he asked without really needing an answer. His face softened as he slung an arm around her shoulders. "Look. I get it. I understand why Dad had to leave us before, but it still— it still hurts. Even now. Especially now, since he's leaving again."

"I know we still have Gran-Gran, and she loves us more than anything, but—" Katara glanced back at their father, who was now assigning which of the warriors would stay behind, "Back then, we were just so… _ lost _without him."

"Well, now we won't be," her brother told her, tightening his grip on her in reassurance. "Amaruk said that Dad told the elders they won't stay in the North Pole for long, because the Fire Nation might think they're up to something if they don't leave after the wedding. Dad thinks they just invited the warriors as a show of force, anyway— just something to scare off the Fire Nation troops in the area." 

"I really hope that's the case," muttered Katara sincerely. Both she and Sokka looked back at their father, who had clambered down from the ritual stone to end the assembly. 

"Sokka, Katara," he called out, waving them over as he made his way to their home. "We still have more to discuss."

The two of them exchanged surprised looks. That was not his Dad Voice— that was the voice of Chief Hakoda, and whatever he had to discuss with them, they knew it was connected to the tribe, as well.

Hakoda held their hut's flap open for them— Gran-Gran was already inside, preparing five flavor soup in one corner. She eyed Hakoda in dry resignation before turning away with pursed lips. Sokka and Katara sat down by the fire pit, sending curious glances between their father and grandmother.

Hakoda settled down across them with a beleaguered sigh, shrugging off his wolfskin cloak and setting it aside. The flames in the middle of the pit lent an even rougher look on his face, the shadows making him appear more rugged than usual. He looked at his children tightly for a few moments before speaking.

"When I leave for the North Pole," he began, "I will be bringing you two—"

"Alright!" crowed Sokka, but Hakoda held up a hand tiredly. 

"I will be bringing you two," he repeated pointedly, "To the Academy."

"What?" cried Katara, at the same time Sokka exclaimed, _ "Why?" _

"Both of you know why I agreed to send you to the Academy," their father said gravely, meeting their eyes with a hard look. "By staying there during our visit to the North, I have ensured with Headmaster Iroh that the pact will not be compromised from either end."

"You'll have us stay at the Academy as _ collateral?" _Sokka gasped incredulously. Katara similarly stared at their father in disbelief.

"The Academy is the safest place you can be," replied Hakoda, the words taking on a practiced tone, grated and scuffed from overuse. "General Iroh is the best headmaster that the Academy has ever seen. He has given his word that he will protect you no matter what."

“What about Gran-Gran and the rest of the tribe?" cried Katara, flinging a hand towards her silent grandmother. "Who’s going to protect _ them?” _

“The Fire Nation will not touch the tribe as long as you two will behave yourselves—" their father began, but Sokka interrupted him.

“Us being in the Academy won’t protect the tribe from getting _ obliterated _ if you do what Arnook tells you, Dad!” He threw his hands up agitatedly. “You said that being a man is knowing where you're needed the most. _ Here _ is where you're needed the most! Those Northern rubes can take care of themselves! They've been doing it since the beginning of time!"

"And we will not stoop so low as they did," Hakoda said firmly. "We are all children of the ocean. We will not leave our sister tribe defenseless, no matter how lowly they think of us."

"But we just got you back," Katara whispered, hating how her voice broke and how her throat closed up. "We just got the tribe back on its feet. So many things could go wrong— if the Fire Nation even _ suspects _you're working against them—"

"They will have no reason to, once I drop you off at the Academy," said Hakoda with finality. Katara glanced desperately at her brother, but found him looking speculatively into the fire.

"There's something else, isn't there?" he muttered, brows furrowed, one hand stroking his chin. "The Fire Nation won't send troops just because they felt like it. They've already won the war, and the Northern Water Tribe was the first one to surrender to them. They have to have something to pin on Chief Arnook— and for you to agree to help him, instead of just saying no… there must be something we're gaining from this."

Their father was silent for a few, long, excruciating seconds until he closed his eyes with a sigh. 

"You're too smart for your own good, son," he muttered with a dry chuckle. He scrubbed a hand over his face and spoke in a low voice. "Alright. Both of you— promise me you won’t breathe a word of this to anyone else."

"What's going on, Dad?" asked Katara pleadingly, "How bad is it going to be?"

Hakoda sighed again before meeting their eyes seriously.

"The Regime of Fire is looking for the next Avatar— a waterbender," he said.

Katara gasped and clutched her mother's necklace. Beside her, Sokka swiveled his head between her and her father, his jaw slack from surprise— it would have been comical if Katara's heart was not pounding in her throat.

_ It all makes sense now. _

Of course her father would send her to the Academy. She was the last waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe. The Fire Nation would immediately zero in on her if they thought she was the next Avatar.

And even if she wasn't, handing her over to Headmaster Iroh was the most sensible way to show the Fire Nation that the Southern Water Tribe was still very much willing to cooperate with their demands.

The revelation gave her an odd sense of deja vu— hadn't she felt this way with the warriors earlier? She'd known that it all made sense, yet it still cut her on the most visceral level.

"But— but—" she stammered, her heart still bounding in her chest like a rabaroo, making it hard to think. She managed to sputter out, "I-I'm not the Avatar!"

Sokka snorted beside her.

"Would be pretty easy to know if you were, sis," he told her, crossing his arms, "'Cause if you were, I'm _ pretty _sure you'll firebend when you're angry."

His rather fast recovery from the news that their father had just dropped on them helped thaw Katara out of her shock.

"Well, I'm _ pretty _sure I'll just bury you in a rockalanche whenever you annoy me," she retorted haughtily, folding her arms over her chest. Sokka stuck his tongue out at her and she smiled tremulously before turning back to their father.

"When— when do we leave, Dad?" she asked. _ How much time do we have with you? _

"Tomorrow, after the farewell feast, so you better start packing," replied Hakoda, standing up. He looked back at his mother, who was watching her grandchildren mournfully as she prepared dinner. Hakoda smiled at her tightly before addressing Sokka and Katara. "You kids eat dinner without me. I need to iron out some things with Bato and the crew."

He lumbered out of their home, shrugging on his parka as he did so. His children gazed at his retreating back in silence, and their grandmother huffed behind them.

"I tried to persuade him to let you stay, you know," Kanna said, hefting the pot of soup over the fire. Katara immediately got up to help her slide the other ingredients into the soup base, but Kanna waved her away. "But of course, your father is right. We are still at war, no matter what the Regime of Fire says. And at war, sacrifices have to be made, whether we like it or not."

"Are you gonna be okay here, Gran-Gran?" Sokka asked earnestly, holding out empty bowls as their grandmother stirred the broth. Kanna smiled wryly at him.

"Oh, don't you worry about me, my brave warrior— I have survived a great many things," she said, handing him a full bowl, which he slurped up almost instantly. Kanna tsked at his manners and slapped his hand lightly. "Don't eat like your food is running away."

"I just can't believe Dad's leaving us again. And in the _ Fire Nation, _no less," Katara said, clutching her bowl close to her chest. Gran-Gran's five flavor soup was always comforting and mouthwatering, but right now, she doubted she could stomach any food. She exhaled slowly, watching as steam wafted away from her soup. "When are we gonna be together again as a family?"

"Oh, my little waterbender," her grandmother murmured, shuffling over to embrace her. Katara's lips trembled as she leaned into her touch, and beside her, Sokka scooted closer to wrap an arm around them both. 

"When we meet again is up to destiny," Kanna said, her gravelly voice thick with unshed tears. "Until then, you must keep each other safe. Family is all we have in a world such as ours."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woof, there's a lot of information in this chapter, and yep, I won't be feeding you the backstories yet! Any guesses on what will happen next? How are you all liking Book Two so far? Comments/reviews are always welcome!
> 
> Oh, and just as a cultural side note, a dap-ay is something that exists in Cordilleran culture in the Philippines, and its functions are basically how I’ve described them here, except that the village elders are the ones who sit upon the stone and resolve conflicts, not just the chief of the tribe. 
> 
> Cheers!


	5. heart as loud as lightning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title credit goes to Emeli Sandé's song, "Read All About It, Part III."

There were flames everywhere, and she was running. 

Running _ away _ or running _ towards, _ Azula didn’t know. Her breath was in her ears and all she knew was that she _ needed _to run. 

There, a corridor on the right. She had to go there. Whatever that corridor held, it was her goal. 

Suddenly, she was inside the Palace, near the gardens her mother frequented. In this time and place, her mother was still around to care for the plants. It wasn’t overgrown and wild, and the rush of the fountain’s waters was still tinkling merrily in her ears. She knew her mother was in the gardens, waiting for her, but she can’t go to her right now, not yet, not when she was hiding from something fearsome that she couldn’t name.

She skidded to a stop behind a large wooden pillar. She could hear people approaching, their steps echoing in the large hallway. She knew those steps. She’d been able to read those footfalls since she was a child.

One set was deliberate, precise, demanding to be heard and followed. She’d learned to brace herself against these steps, because once their owner saw her, she had to be commanding, lethal, and _ perfect. _

The other set was as unsure and clumsy as the other was sharp and exact. It would shuffle one moment, and pick up pace the next. It didn’t walk straight lines, as though its owner was uncertain where his feet would take him.

She’d learned to pity these steps, because his apprehension could be construed as weakness. 

The footsteps passed and the scene changed— she stood before her great-grandfather’s portrait, but his eyes were replaced by flames. 

She feared him. 

But it was just him and his eyes and her, and everything else was pitch black and suddenly she was falling in the darkness. 

Azula woke up in cold sweat, eyes frantically anchoring on the fringes of the gray sunlight that filtered in through the open windows and onto her rumpled sheets. 

Her dream left her with restlessness— she vaguely remembered _ her _in the mix. 

_ Mother. _

Shaking herself mentally, she swung her legs from the bed and stood up. The moment her feet led her to the vanity in her room, she stopped. 

A faint memory resurfaced in her mind, a distorted recollection of her mother brushing her hair like she used to when she was just a child, but whenever she tried to recall more details she found herself drawing a blank. 

She glared at the mirror and rang the bell by her bed. A few moments later, two bowing servants entered her room.

"Run my bath," she commanded them, and the older servant ushered the younger one into her washroom before opening her large closet and laying out her usual tunic and light armor on the bed. 

As more servants streamed in with towels and fragrant soaps, Azula forced herself to forget the feeling of dread that her dream had brought her. After all, that's just what it was— a dream. If she let her dreams affect her reality, she would never get out of bed. And that will not do.

Today was an important day— the council meeting was too significant to miss. The platoon sent to scour the Northern Air Temple had sent a herald to her father the day before, and they were expected to arrive today with valuable cargo.

Fully dressed and fitted with her armor, Azula made her way to the war chamber, where several of her father's ministers were already seated. She smiled graciously at them as they all stood and bowed at the waist upon the announcement of her arrival— Finance Minister Chen looked properly shaken as she turned her smirk on him. She walked with her head held high to the cushion at her father's right-hand side and waited for the ceremonial gong that proclaimed the Fire Lord's arrival.

Flames erupted along the raised dais as Fire Lord Ozai swept into the chamber. The council all stood, bowed, then kowtowed as was the custom, save for Azula, who simply knelt down on one knee until her father gave the signal to begin the meeting.

"Lieutenant Hsiang," Ozai called out, his entire form shadowed by the flames, "I believe you have something… _ valuable… _to show us?"

Hsiang stumbled as he stood, clearing his throat nervously.

"Yes, m— My Lord," he said, tucking his helmet in the crook of his arm and addressing the council. "My scouts have found a certain group hiding in the Northern Air Temple. Those in nearby villages report that these people call themselves 'air walkers.' Naturally, I sent my best men to investigate."

He paused for what he seemed to think was dramatic effect, but he was met with unimpressed silence. Hsiang cleared his throat again and nodded at the two guards that flanked the war chamber's entrance.

The heavy double doors swung forward, and in marched six of Hsiang's men in a tight formation around a prisoner, their bulky armor obscuring the man. 

Hsiang gave the order to present their captive to the Fire Lord, and the commandos fanned out to reveal a frail, bearded, middle-aged man who immediately buckled and fell to the floor.

"Y-Your Highness, My Lord, please, I beg of you—"

"Silence."

The Fire Lord's command quieted even the murmurs of the council, and only the prisoner's panicked breathing could be heard, echoing oddly in the cavernous chamber.

"Lieutenant Hsiang, when you sent word that you had precious cargo, I had anticipated something _ more," _Ozai said silkily, although the curtain of flames burned brighter as he spoke. "I must say I'm quite disappointed."

"No! No, My Lord, please let me—" Hsiang strode forward quickly and kicked the prisoner's side. "Explain your presence in the Northern Air Temple, peasant!"

The man groaned and grasped at his sides before attempting to kowtow to the Fire Lord.

"Your Highness— a long time ago, my people became refugees after a terrible flood. My infant son, Teo, was badly hurt and lost his mother." His explanation came between labored gasps, muffled by his near prostrate position on the granite floor. "We needed somewhere to rebuild and I stumbled across the place. Couldn't believe it— everywhere, pictures of flying people— but it was empty. Nobody would call it home but us."

"Tell the Fire Lord about your inventions," Hsiang ordered pompously.

"Oh! Yes! At the Temple, I came across these fan-like contraptions— little, light flying machines!" The man straightened up and sat on his heels excitedly. "They gave me an idea. Build a new life for my son, in the air! Then everyone will be on equal ground! So to speak. We're just in the process of improving upon what's already here. And, after all, isn't that what nature does?"

_ "Nature _is going back to the dingy little Earth Kingdom soil where you came from and not living off the land that the Great Fire Lord Sozin won for the Fire Nation," grumbled one of the older ministers.

"Oh, come now, Minister Rin," Azula called out with a roll of her eyes, "The Regime of Fire has kept peace in the Earth Kingdom since my great-grandfather Sozin vanquished Avatar Roku. I think we should be _ gracious _enough to let these people live in the Northern Air Temple."

"But— Princess Azula—"

"For a price, of course," she finished, directing a sly grin at her father's silhouette. She felt her chest fill with pride as the silhouette nodded slowly and waved at her to continue. She addressed the mechanist with a magnanimous air. "Tell me, peasant— these _ contraptions _of yours, were they the only ones you've made since you trespassed on Fire Nation territory?"

The man gulped and wrung his fingers, but he blathered on excitedly.

"No, no, Princess! I have dabbled in all sorts of things in the past years— many, many ways to take flight, you see— we do use balloons to transport food from the base of the mountain to the Temple's spires, larger balloons to transfer the sick from one tower to the next without infecting the others—"

"It seems you have quite a lot to offer, then," cut in Azula, drumming her nails boredly on the table. The man nodded vigorously as rivulets of sweat ran down his temples.

"Yes— anything, anything at all! Your Highness, Princess— I would be honored—"

"Of course, it would be in poor taste for us to not offer anything in return," Azula said smoothly, glancing down the table at the ministers, most of whom were assessing her in suspicion. She flashed them a cat-like smile before turning to the mechanist. "You said you have a son? How old is he?"

The mechanist's eyes grew wide in fear, his head swivelling between her and the Fire Lord.

"No! No! He's a cripple— I can't send him to the Academy— please, My Lord, I beg you—"

"Are you denying your son the right to have quality education?" said Azula in mock surprise. "And after we have _ so generously _offered to let you live on land that our great ancestors have fought so hard for?"

"B-But— I— We—" He grappled with words for a moment, before throwing himself to the floor in a deep kowtow. "I humbly accept your graciousness, Your Highness."

Azula smirked in satisfaction.

"Good."

* * *

"I thought you said you were all packed," griped Sokka as he entered their hut. "What's that?"

"My gift for Yue," Katara explained, pulling back the hide wrapping to show her brother the two water skins inside. Sokka crossed his arms and frowned at her petulantly.

"Oh great, _ you _ got her something. Now I'm gonna look like a jerk for not getting her a _ wedding _gift," he groused, sitting down on his pelts and rummaging through his packed bags. He stopped midway and shot Katara a furtive glance. "Unless— d'you think it's a good idea, me giving her something?"

"That's really up to you, Sokka." Katara didn't even bother to look at her brother, choosing instead to finish tying up the twine around her gift.

"I guess," Sokka muttered, hesitating for a moment before dislodging everything from his bag. Katara gasped at his sudden movement.

"Sokka, what are you doing?" She asked, chasing a wayward ball of socks that tumbled from the pile. "We're supposed to leave in, like, half an hour, and it takes you a _ whole _day to pack properly!"

"Just gimme a sec! I know it's here somewhere..." Sokka insisted, burrowing into the bottom of his knapsack. He emerged, disheveled, holding aloft a piece of carved wood triumphantly. "Ha! I _ knew _there's a reason I didn't throw it away!"

"What is it?" Katara asked, peering curiously at the misshapen thing, but Sokka was already rifling through her leftover hide and twine.

"It's this fish I carved for her back in the Academy," he explained, bundling up the wooden 'fish' and struggling to keep the hide closed with twine. "I ended up not giving it to her because that was the night she told me she was engaged, but— I dunno, it's just something to remember me by, y'know?"

"That's— kinda sweet, I guess," Katara said hesitantly, and Sokka beamed proudly at his haphazard wrapping job.

"So, are we gonna hand these to Pakku or what?" he asked excitedly, stuffing his things into his pack at random. Katara rolled her eyes and pointedly folded some of his clothes until he slowed down. 

Once her brother was done properly packing, the two of them hefted their bags onto their shoulders and carried their gifts out of the hut. 

Sokka went on ahead, asking a couple of Northern warriors where Sifu Pakku was, but Katara hung back and took one last look at their small home, knowing that three of those four pelts would not be warmed until who knows when, that the cookfire in the middle of their home would now only serve Gran-Gran, that there was a very real possibility that she won't be back here until she was out of the Academy for good. 

It was quite the reversal of how she felt the year before, and oh, how she wished she was still the same naive girl who thought she was going to the Academy to simply learn how to bend.

Katara blinked back tears as she let the tent flap close.

"Sis, keep up!" Sokka shouted from a few paces away, waving at her while pointing beyond the crowd of Northerners. "These guys said Pakku's talking to Gran-Gran, for some reason."

Katara hurried to her brother's side, and together they crossed the village center to the longhouse, where both their grandmother and Pakku stood, seemingly in a heated discussion. 

Sokka raised his eyebrows at the scene, then at Katara. Wordlessly, they scurried to the closest side of the longhouse that could hide them, crouching low and peering around the corner to listen in on the two elders' discussion.

"...see no reason why I wouldn't, Kanna," Pakku was saying with a miffed look on his face, "She has more potential than any student in my class."

Katara's jaw dropped. Were they talking about _ her? _

"Oh, because it comes so easily for you to subvert your precious traditions," Gran-Gran replied dryly, her back to them. "Pakku, be straight with me. I cannot have you toying with my granddaughter's hopes simply because of our history."

Katara and Sokka shared curious looks before crouching closer to hear more.

Pakku huffed and folded his arms into his sleeves.

"I assure you, Kanna, the past had nothing to do with my decision," he said. "Yugoda pointed out your resemblance only after I have taken her on as my student."

There was a pause, in which Kanna simply stared at him while Pakku averted his gaze.

"You lie," she said. Pakku blinked at her in surprise, but she forged on. "She wears the necklace, Pakku. Surely even your old eyes would have recognized it."

Katara's hand immediately clutched the carved stone at her throat— what did her mother's necklace have to do with all of this?

"I did." Pakku swallowed audibly, shaking his head in defeat. "And even without it, I saw your spirit in her, Kanna. I cannot deny that it got me thinking about… us. About what could have been."

_ "What in the frozen hell is going on?" _hissed Sokka, but Katara quickly shushed him as Pakku continued in a quieter tone.

"If you had stayed, we could have had a little girl, just like her," he murmured, and Sokka and Katara nearly fell out of their hiding place in shock. Pakku sighed. "But, no matter her potential, she wouldn't have been allowed to explore her prowess in the North. Just as you couldn't. I finally understood why you left, Kanna, and it was heartbreaking— in a wholly different way."

Their grandmother stood still for a moment, before bowing her head solemnly.

"Thank you, Pakku," she said, before straightening up. "For no longer seeing the world through the North's twisted morals. And for giving my little miracle a chance."

"Of course, Kanna," Pakku said, a brief smile flitting over his face, so incongruous with the sour expression he usually wore. "I still know not to cross you. Your son's men had told me all sorts of stories about you training them to handle a spear."

_ "Gran-Gran? With a _spear?" Sokka whispered incredulously, but Katara covered his mouth with a mittened hand before he could talk more.

"Oh, those riffraffs knew what they were getting into," their grandmother chuckled. "Hakoda grew up knowing who the better fighter was between his parents."

"I have no doubt in your skill. I just wish I hadn't belittled it back when you were still in the North." Pakku said with a thin smile. "And as for your request to keep your granddaughter safe— I would try my best, but it seems that she has a knack for getting herself in trouble."

"She _ is _my granddaughter," laughed Kanna, and Katara pouted in displeasure. "But do not worry so; her brother will keep her in check."

Sokka nudged her and shrugged in his 'I told you so' way, and she responded by shoving him back into a snow pile. Sokka launched himself at Katara with snowballs in his fists, making both of them tumble out of their hiding spot and right below Gran-Gran's and Pakku's stern faces.

"How many times have I told you two that it's rude to eavesdrop?" said Gran-Gran exasperatedly, and Sokka and Katara stood up and shook snow off of themselves abashedly.

"We didn't mean to interrupt!" Katara said, smiling sheepishly. "We just wanted to hand over our gifts for Yue before Sifu Pakku's ship left for the North Pole." 

She continued to grin widely as she held out her damp parcel. Sokka nodded vigorously beside her, gesturing to his own package, the twine holding it together knocked askew. Pakku appraised the bundles disdainfully, yet he held out his hand for them all the same.

"I will make sure the princess receives your… gifts," he told them, tucking the parcels under his arm.

"So, uh—" began Sokka, scratching the back of his head, "What— what were you guys talking about? I'm only asking 'cause we weren't eavesdropping _ at all—" _

Katara elbowed him hard on his side, making him gasp in pain. Gran-Gran simply watched their interaction with a flat expression.

"We were discussing how trouble always seems to follow you two, actually," she replied dryly before turning back to Pakku and bowing deeply. "I'm afraid this is where I must leave you, Pakku. Have a safe voyage."

She placed a firm hand on her grandchildren's shoulders, steering them away from the waterbending master.

"Alright, you two better head on to the docks before your father sends out a search party," Gran-Gran told them, but Sokka just made a disbelieving noise from the back of his throat.

"Oh, c'mon, Gran-Gran, you _ gotta _ tell us what was up with you and Pakku," he pleaded, ducking out of her grasp and making silly kissing sounds. "Do you _ love _him?"

He swiftly got a smack on the upside of the head for his antics.

"Bonehead," muttered Katara with a roll of her eyes. "Gran-Gran, we're really sorry we eavesdropped on you and Sifu Pakku. But— we did hear some pretty— um, pretty weird things, I guess?"

Gran-Gran shook her head in defeat and tucked them both under her arms, ambling slowly in the direction of the docks.

"In the North," she began, "It is custom that young women go to the matchmaker at the age of fourteen. I wasn't exempted from the rule, of course, and because of my family's status— your great-grandparents were fairly recognized in the society— I was paired with a dignified young man."

"Pakku?" Sokka guessed, and Gran-Gran nodded.

"We were meant to wed on the full moon after my sixteenth birthday. He carved me a betrothal necklace the day we got engaged," she lightly touched the stone that hung from Katara's necklace, a far-off look in her eyes, "He promised me a long, happy life together, with many children in a warm home where I had little to want.

"But it was not enough for me."

Gran-Gran stopped in her tracks and shook her head.

"This was during the height of the rebellion against the Fire Nation, and while the rest of the world strove to fight the Regime of Fire, the North Pole was building thicker walls and isolating itself." She pursed her lips and exhaled forcefully, her breath coming out in a stream of fog. "Pakku shared the majority of our kin's idea of tucking ourselves into our small corner of the world instead of fighting for freedom. But I didn't. I snuck away on the eve of our wedding, boarded a ship to the Earth Kingdom to join the resistance, and never looked back."

"Gran-Gran…" Katara struggled to find words to— to do what? Comfort her grandmother? Express how much she admired her? Confront her for not telling them about her past? All of it seemed inane, and not enough.

Kanna looked sorrowfully at her and Sokka.

"It was only after I settled down with your grandfather and had a child of my own that I learned that some battles are not worth fighting," she told them. "This is what worries me about you two. As with your father, you both seem to have inherited my unfortunate habit of running towards danger instead of away from it. You, Katara, more than anyone."

Sokka snickered on Gran-Gran's other side and Katara narrowed her eyes at him and discreetly bent a snowball at the back of his head.

"You will be staying in the heart of the Fire Nation," their grandmother continued pointedly, walking them firmly through the crowded marketplace. "Nothing guarantees your safety there, except your trust in each other. Remember that."

"Of course, Gran-Gran," promised Katara, a lump forming in her throat. She stopped in her tracks and threw her arms around her grandmother's middle, and after a few moments, she felt Sokka follow suit.

"We'll take care of each other," vowed Sokka, his voice muffled by Gran-Gran's parka. "I won't let Katara do anything stupid, I swear."

"And I won't let anyone kill Sokka for being a hopeless idiot," added Katara.

Their grandmother laughed dryly at that and patted the tops of their heads heavily with mittened hands.

"Be nice to each other," she reminded them one last time, before nodding at the gaggle of Hakoda's men that had gathered around one of the Southern Water Tribe's ships. "It is time to go, my brave warrior, my little waterbender."

"We'll write you _ all _the time," said Katara, grasping her grandmother's hand firmly. Sokka nodded in agreement beside her.

"Yeah, as much as the Fire Nation would allow us," he said, not quite as jokingly as he hoped.

"And I will pray to Tui and La for your safety," Gran-Gran replied, tracing half-moon figures on their foreheads solemnly.

"There you are," Hakoda's voice called out to them from the crowd. He smiled sadly at his mother before turning his attention to his children. "A hawk arrived for you two."

"A letter?" asked Katara, taking the proffered bamboo tube and examining it for a tell-tale seal. It didn't seem to show any indication where it came from, aside from the tag that addressed it to her and Sokka.

"Just in time, I'd say, otherwise you wouldn't have gotten it at all," their father said. "But you might have to write your reply when you get to the Academy. It's time to go."

He exchanged a brief look with Gran-Gran before his mother reached up and traced the same symbol on his forehead with a sigh.

"Tui and La guide you, my son," Kanna murmured, and Hakoda managed to crack a reassuring smile at her before leading his children to his ship.

All around them, sails were being unfurled and courses were being set. The Northmen's vessels looked ready and raring to go, while the men of the Southern Water Tribe were still littering the docks, saying their goodbyes to their families.

Sea salt sprayed Katara's face as she and her family made their way up the gangplank. Below them, Gran-Gran waved one last time before disappearing into the throng of well-wishers.

"Ready?" Dakkel called from his spot near the mainsail. 

Hakoda shielded his eyes from the harsh reflection of the late afternoon sun on the frozen tundra.

"As ready as we'll ever be," he muttered, sparing his village— his _ people— _one last glance before giving the command to set sail.

* * *

The bar was rowdy, smelled like rabaroo dung, and, from what Toph's feet could tell, nearly falling apart at the seams.

Toph liked it here.

The other patrons didn't even care that there's a tiny, twelve-year-old blind girl in their midst. They continued to holler at each other across the filthy room in such crass terms that would've made her mother faint. The barkeep still wouldn't let her taste some lager, though.

But that's okay. Toph wasn't here to drink (even though that would've been fun). She was here to find a sailor— and if her father's sayings about sailors and cursing were true, it was a safe bet that Toph was surrounded by them.

"Hey, you," she called to a particularly large man who didn't seem quite as inebriated as the other ones, "You know anyone who sails outta here?"

"Where ya goin', half pint?" he slurred back, the contents of his mug sloshing onto the table.

"Anywhere but here," shouted Toph over the din. The big guy guffawed loudly.

"What, ya runnin' away, ain't ya?"

"Yep," Toph replied bluntly. "So, know anyone or not, Big Guy?"

Big Guy belched heartily and snorted.

"Might know sum'one. Could introduce ya," he said, and Toph could sense him leering over her. "For a price."

"Fine," she relented, because for all her bluster and experience with huge dudes like this one, she couldn't help but feel a tad bit uncomfortable. She dug a coin from her pocket— she'd gotten rid of Xin Fu's box back in her tunnel— and slapped it on the table. "That enough for ya?"

Big Guy's heart rate sped up as he took the coin. _ Good. Any twelve-year-old hanging around sleazy bars with this kind of pocket money shouldn't be taken lightly. _

The guy cleared his throat and stood unsteadily.

"C'mere," he told her, before earthbending a hole in the wall.

The smell of urine assaulted Toph's nose the minute she stepped outside. Trying to hold back a gag, she went after Big Guy's stumbling footsteps along the wall of the pub and into a small alley.

She paused for a minute, assessing her surroundings. This part of town was filled to the brim with shanties stacked on top of each other, following the gentle slope of the street. Heartbeats upon heartbeats upon heartbeats crammed each one, and Toph couldn't tell which shack Big Guy was leading her to.

_ Oh well. I could take them if he tries to screw me over. _

Big Guy finally stopped and knocked loudly on a ramshackle sheet metal door. The noise set off a couple of yowling cat owls, making Toph flinch— the sound of their sharp claws scratching across the tin roofs set her teeth on edge.

The door in front of them finally screeched open. One set of footsteps— or, at least, one foot and some sort of foot replacement that Toph couldn't identify— trudged out of the shanty and the unwieldy metal door slammed shut behind him.

"Whaddya wan'?" The owner of the mismatched footsteps asked gruffly. 

Seemed like his feet aren't the only mismatched parts of him. From what Toph could feel, the old man also had quite a few gold nuggets stuck up his gums.

"Got sum business for ya, Burado," replied Big Guy, motioning to Toph. "Kid wants ter run away."

"Kid better run back to 'er parents," Burado spat. "Whatcha thinkin', Muscle? Koh's balls, I ain't no nanny."

"She got the dough, Burado," Muscle whispered, thinking Toph wouldn't hear, "Paid me a gold piece just ta take her to ya."

"A gold piece, huh? Hrmph. I do have a shipment goin' to Harbor Town tomorrow," mused Burado, before finally addressing Toph. "Kid, it's fifteen gold pieces for yer ticket to freedom."

"Nah," Toph shrugged blithely. "Ten pieces."

"Fourteen."

"Twelve and I won't yank out those gold bits outta your skull," Toph pressed, and both adults let out barks of laughter.

"A'ight, but only 'cause I like yer spunk, kid," Burado relented, still chuckling. "We leave at dawn."

"Perfect." 

And with that, Toph tunneled into the ground again— faintly, she heard Muscle and Burado laughing at her before the earth closed out all sound— and made her way towards the approximate direction of her parents' house to pack her stuff.

Heart racing in her chest, she carefully made her way to her usual sneaking out spot, timing her climb up the wall right after her father's guards finished circling the courtyard. She rushed up to the second floor on a stone platform and paused by her window, feeling around for any servants that might be lurking— then her hand met something unfamiliar.

They'd put metal bars on her windows.

Her breath hitched in her throat. _ No, no way. _ She couldn't climb in now. She couldn't sneak into any other place in the house— the risk of running into servants (or Koh forbid, her _ parents) _was too high.

Belatedly, she felt a stab of anger towards her parents. They were obviously under the impression that she'd eventually return to them, and this was their response? Her father really wasn't kidding about locking her up twenty-four seven.

Toph mulled the bars in front of her. She'd always felt an affinity with metal, like she had with earth. But could she even _ bend _it? She never got to try with the spoon she stole; if she tried now and ended up making a ruckus, she had no doubts her father would have even worse ideas to lock her up.

No, she had to try metalbending another time. Right now, she would have to risk going into the kitchen right below her room.

Her stomach rumbled at the thought of sneaking into the kitchen. _ Yeah, packing food would be a good idea, too. _

She slid down the brick wall and slammed her feet into the ground. No one around; this was easier than she thought. She bent herself a small hole to crawl through and emerged on the other side undetected.

The kink in her plan surfaced when she realized she couldn't exactly steal food that she couldn't_ see. _ She knew there were wooden shelves somewhere filled with puffs and cakes, but Toph never really bothered to learn where things were— the servants just _ handed _stuff to her.

Never mind. She could just buy food later.

Ignoring her rumbling stomach, she paused by the doorway and listened. Two guards to her left were chatting idly as they approached. Toph quickly ducked back into the kitchen as they passed her.

"...completely delusional," one of the guards was saying. "A blind kid as sheltered as that, she could go off with any stranger without even thinking about it. And with the Beifongs' money…"

"Yeah, we would've caught her getting out," agreed the other, "I mean, could you even imagine her fighting? She couldn't even lift a spoon on her own! They shouldn't believe everything the Fire Nation tells them."

"Oh, I know, but you know how these nobles are with the Fire Nation. Got their noses so far up their flaming asses..."

The conversation drifted away as the guards walked farther down the hall. Toph rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at them before hurrying upstairs and swiftly slipping inside her bedroom.

It was easier now to find things that she could pack. Her clothes hung where the servants usually went when they dressed her; her slippers were right below them, she knew, but she wouldn't be taking any of those; and her carved walking stick— a gift from a nobleman who wanted to strike up a wedding deal with her parents— laid near her bedpost. 

Tucking her rougher tunics under her arm, she shucked the blanket from her bed and dumped her clothes onto it. Two knots later— at least, she hoped they were knots— and she was hanging her bag of clothes on the end of her walking stick, all ready to go.

Toph grinned to herself, her heart thumping with adrenaline.

Freedom was so close, she could smell it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me so long to write. I'm too excited about the events in the next chapter that I wanted to just skip this lol.
> 
> Anyway, a side note on the name: "Burado" in Tagalog means “erased,” which I think is a pretty cool name for a pirate-slash-bagman.
> 
> Tell me what you think of this chapter!


	6. an unforgettable fury of light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit for the chapter title goes to a poem called Sunrise by Mary Oliver.

Toph had never been on a ship before. Hell, she'd never been on anything but solid ground before. It was a bit of a rude awakening that the greatest earthbender in the world could be literally brought down to her knees by rocking waves.

It didn't help that Burado's ship was just a tiny speeder crammed to the brim with clattering boxes of heavy weapons and metal cages stuffed with litters of yowling, illegally-bred tiger pups. Between the noise and the overpowering stench of filth, rust, and urine, Toph barely had time to collect herself before Burado announced they were about to anchor.

"Took you long enough, old man," croaked Toph with as much bravado as she could the minute the ship shuddered to a stop. She could barely sense anything in the ship, but she'll be damned if she showed any kind of weakness now. Not that it mattered— she was pretty sure the sailor watched her empty all the contents of her stomach over the rails the entire journey.

There was a sound of spark rocks scratching together and the acrid smell of smoke filled Toph's lungs. She coughed and ambled away unsteadily, scowling when she heard Burado snicker behind her back.

"Aye, you ain't as tough as I pegged ya, kid," he called, and another puff of smoke drifted over to Toph, who scrunched up her face in disgust and pulled the front of her tunic over her nose. There was a sound of metal scraping against metal— Burado was probably unloading the contents of his speeder. 

"Hand me the dough 'fore ya get off."

Toph scowled deeply and pulled out a handful of coins— she'd refused to pay Burado until he'd gotten her far, far away from Gaoling— and counted twelve pieces before handing over the money to the sailor. Burado huffed in satisfaction and pocketed his earnings, then continued to shove his contraband off his speeder. Toph followed him down the gangplank and breathed a sigh of relief as soon as her bare feet touched the earth.

"Sweet, sweet dirt!" she exclaimed, dropping onto her knees and throwing her hands up and laughing. Burado clucked his tongue disapprovingly behind her, but she was too damned relieved to care. After all— her parents weren't here to chastise her for rolling around in the dirt. They weren't here to coddle her and ask her if she fell down. That kind of life was behind her. 

Toph stood and struck the ground with her feet, extending her senses as far as she could let them go. She felt a village up ahead— small, with a few stone houses surrounding the village square, not like the sprawling, stacked, and stuffed metropolitan that was Gaoling. 

_ It's perfect. _

She grinned widely and saluted Burado over her shoulder. "See ya never, oldster!"

She summoned a wave of earth and rode it to the village, dodging wayward trees gleefully, relishing the wind whipping back her hair. 

She was nearing the village's walls when it happened.

It started with one heartbeat spiking and a startled gasp. Then—

"Look!"

"What is it?"

"What's happening?"

"Did you  _ see  _ that?"

Toph settled herself firmly against the earth, just before she entered the village walls. Nothing was amiss— except for the fact that the village square was now filled with murmuring people, all of whom seemed to be looking in the same direction, all of them speculating amongst themselves about  _ something  _ that Toph couldn't see.

She shivered. Maybe this village wasn't as perfect as she thought. 

* * *

Zuko was in the Western Courtyard polishing his dao swords when it happened.

He had just finished having tea with his uncle. It had been one of the most bizarre tea sessions they’d had in a long time— made even more bizarre by the topic of their conversation.

_ “Master Hama,”  _ Iroh had begun, as soon as the scent of ginseng wafted in the air,  _ “is a deserter.” _

Zuko hadn’t known why his uncle chose to address his incessant questions then, when he had been adamantly tight-lipped about it during their travel back to the Academy.

Nonetheless, the new piece of information piqued his curiosity.

_ “If she’s a deserter, then why is she—”  _ Zuko stopped, his voice caught in the back of his throat. He knew what happened to those who left the Academy before they finished their tour of duty. He’d seen the executions firsthand— they were the stuff of his nightmares. Well, the stuff of his nightmares before he got his scar.

Iroh set down his cup and pursed his lips mournfully.

_ “The headmaster before me was a cruel man,”  _ his uncle explained, his features pinched.  _ "Under your grandfather's regime, he proposed to bring Southern waterbenders to the Academy by force; they were tortured, brainwashed, and isolated from their peers. Those were the dark days of the Siege of the South. _

_ "But it was not enough that they were ripped from their homes and were treated like cattle; once the Southern waterbenders achieved mastery, they were sent back to their homeland to… prove their loyalty to the Regime of Fire." _

Zuko watched his uncle's hand tighten around his porcelain cup; a spike of fear embedded in his gut.

_ "They were sent back home only to— to do what?"  _ he asked, dreading the answer.  _ "Uncle, I thought the purpose of the tour of duty was to keep the Fire Nation's peace!" _

_ "Power can twist outright lies into justified action, Prince Zuko,"  _ Iroh replied severely, and underneath the disbelief clouding Zuko's mind, a spark of anger flared for those who gave up their lives for his nation. His uncle looked at him over steepled hands.  _ "This is the truth of our world, my nephew— and so, you must question everything that you know; only then can you truly understand the difference between blind obedience and true loyalty." _

_ "What does that have to do with anything, Uncle?"  _ asked Zuko exasperatedly. His tea steamed as he clutched his cup.  _ "That old hag didn't seem loyal to anyone but herself!" _

_ "Ah, yes. Master Hama is a complex woman,"  _ agreed Iroh.  _ "But hers is a story that most thought was impossible to achieve. The presence of putrid water is enough to give hope to a man dying of thirst." _

Zuko had walked away from that conversation with more questions than answers. He took to practicing his sword-fighting in the Western Courtyard, the ocean breeze a balm against the oppressive summer heat of the Fire Nation. He sought to clear his mind as he ran through the motions, but he was still buzzing with morbid curiosity even after he tired himself out.

_ Why would Uncle tell me that story?  _ he thought to himself, running the dirty rag down the flat edge of his sword.  _ Maybe Azula was right— maybe Uncle  _ has  _ turned traitor. _

_ Father wouldn't allow him to live if he were,  _ a small voice in the back of his head reminded him, accompanying the thought with memories of deserters screaming as they burned. 

Zuko shook his head fiercely and made to sheath his dual swords, tucking them into a single unit, but something bright glinted near the hilt and Zuko looked up in wonder.

He squinted his eyes at the horizon— the sun was directly above him; the reflected light on his sword made no sense. Zuko moved around the courtyard, trying to catch the light with his sword until it gleamed white.

"What the..."

It was faint, but visible nonetheless— a column of light, somehow brighter than the sun, stretched up from the horizon and into the sky. It pulsed for a few moments before snuffing out.

Zuko stood in befuddled amazement before snapping back to his senses. He was already running to his uncle's office before he knew what he was doing.

"Uncle!" 

He burst into the chambers, panting harshly. Iroh looked up at him in surprise, his eyes flitting behind Zuko.

"What is it, nephew?"

"There was—" 

How would he explain it without sounding so unbelievably pathetic for panicking over a  _ beam of light? _

"I was practicing in the Western Courtyard," he began, clutching at the stitch in his side. "When something— something  _ weird  _ happened. It was— there was— there was a bright light on the horizon— it went straight up, like a column, and it went really bright for a few times before it went out!"

Something flickered in Iroh's eyes before he set aside the papers he had been reading and considered Zuko seriously.

"It came from the west?" He asked, his tone inscrutable. 

Zuko shook his head.

"It was a bit north, maybe northwest, I don't know," he replied, annoyed at his uncle's muted reaction. 

His uncle nodded before standing up and moving through his office with surprising agility.

"Uncle, what's going on?" demanded Zuko, but Iroh ignored him, fumbling instead with one of the drawers behind his desk. Zuko watched as he slid it completely out of the shelf, reached into the crevice, and pulled out a small, intricately carved wooden box.

"I believe it is time for me to contact my old friends." declared Iroh, setting down the box on his desk. Zuko briefly saw a lotus engraved on the cover before his uncle slid it out of his sight. The grave look on Iroh's face melted into his usual smile as he addressed Zuko once more. "Could you ensure that our messenger hawks are in good condition, nephew?"

* * *

"You have a problem!" exclaimed Katara, throwing her hands up in frustration. Sokka scowled at her and crossed his arms defensively over his chest.

"It's  _ you  _ who's got a problem!" He countered. "That's just how a  _ man  _ is supposed to smell!"

"No, it is  _ not!"  _ shouted Katara, stomping out of their shared cabin. "And it's not fair you're making  _ me _ do all the cooking and the cleaning when Dad  _ specifically  _ told  _ both  _ of us to do them!"

"Uh, Katara?"

"No! I'm not taking  _ any more  _ of your excuses!" yelled Katara, whirling on him and poking his chest with her finger. "Do you  _ know  _ what your dirty socks  _ smell  _ like? Our room is a chicken pigsty because of  _ you!" _

"Katara!" Sokka exclaimed, pointing agitatedly behind her. "Look!"

"What?  _ What?"  _ replied Katara angrily, before something so unusually bright illuminated her brother's face that she instinctively turned around and grabbed his hand in fear.

Her father's scant crew started yelling panicked instructions at each other, and in the distance, startled tiger seals began howling and baying. Sokka shielded his eyes with one mittened hand and tucked her close to his side, hunching over her protectively as the ship strayed a little.

"What is going on?" Katara gasped, and the bright light pulsed even whiter on the horizon, the sea refracting it into a thousand, shuddering slivers, before snuffing out completely, leaving them and their convoy of ships stopped in open waters as the crew collected themselves.

A sudden blast from a horn in a neighboring ship jolted the siblings apart, and one of the Northern warriors signaled hurriedly to their father. There was a flurry of movement from both sides— Sokka and Katara flattened themselves against the railings as the tribesmen rushed all over the deck, and before long the two ships were parallel with each other and Sifu Pakku was walking aboard the Southern Water Tribe's ship with a grave expression on his face. 

"I'm afraid we must hurry, Chief Hakoda," he said, his hands tucked into the sleeves of his long robes. "Captain Aput has informed me that the sudden beam of light came from the direction of the Northern Water Tribe. Whether or not it bodes well for us is uncertain, but we must err on the side of caution. No one knows what it would take for the Fire Nation troops to attack."

"I agree," replied Hakoda, stroking his chin. "We could send scouts— one ship from each of our tribes. If they alter their course they can be ahead of us by two days. Reinforcing your security would be vital."

"Indeed." Pakku's eyes flickered to Katara's, like chips of ice glinting in the sun, and Katara couldn't help but remember the conversation they overheard between him and her grandmother. "However, with this comes a change in our plans. I will be accompanying you to the Academy. I have important matters to discuss with Headmaster Iroh."

"Of course." If Hakoda found the statement unusual, he hid it well. "I'll ask my crew to prepare a cabin for you."

"Thank you," Pakku said, seemingly more out of sour politeness than actual gratitude.

“Inform Kallik of this development— his ship is best equipped for this. Have him coordinate with the Northern scouts,” Hakoda told one of his men, who nodded and ran to the other side of the deck, where the other Southern vessels have stopped. Hakoda turned to the rest of the crew. “Men, our goal now is to reach the Academy as fast as the winds would allow—”

“Dad, what’s going on?” asked Sokka, shouldering his way through the warriors that flocked to his father’s side. “Are we really sure it’s a good idea to—”

“This,” interrupted Pakku sternly, “is none of your concern, young man.”

Sokka jutted his jaw defiantly.

“If we’re risking the lives of  _ our people  _ for  _ your  _ tribe, then it  _ is  _ our concern—”

“Sokka,” Hakoda said, laying a hand on his shoulder. “You are already aware of the situation. We all have sacrifices to make. Please, no more arguing.”

“But—”

“I’ll help,” volunteered Katara, slipping between the hulking warriors and standing squarely beside her brother. “I can bend us faster to the Academy so our men wouldn’t be left too long in the Northern seas without backup.”

“Katara—” began their father, but Katara shook her head and met his weary gaze with a determined one. 

“The wolf is stronger with its pack, right?” she asked, her mouth set in a thin line. “We can’t help you out there, but at least this would mean you could catch up with the others before they even arrive at the Northern Water Tribe.”

“You seem to enjoy imposing impossible challenges upon yourself, little girl,” said Pakku sardonically.

“Are you scared you can’t keep up with me, old man?” countered Katara, crossing her arms over her chest.

Hakoda frowned in disapproval.

"Katara, that is no way to talk to an elder," he admonished. Katara reminded herself that her father did not know of her duel with her waterbending sifu, along with other less respectful words she’d thrown his way, so she simply pursed her lips and bowed stiffly at Pakku, who smirked triumphantly and nodded at Hakoda before following one of the Southern tribesmen to his cabin.

Another horn blew from one of the ships. Hakoda took a deep breath and started barking instructions at his men— Katara did not wait for orders and marched straight for the bow of their ship, arms raised.

"We are ready, Katara," her father said behind her, and Katara's heart filled with warmth at his show of trust in her waterbending skills. She nodded and steeled herself against the railings.

"Here we go."

* * *

Suki set down Minh's letter with a sigh.

She wasn't surprised that it took her former captain so long to return home or send the Kyoshi Warriors a letter; apparently, Minh's team's tour of duty had not only been extended indefinitely, but they were now also working with Fire Nation soldiers in Ba Sing Se, as opposed to their original assignment in General Fong's base. From the looks of it, things have been quite hectic on their end, and they could only coordinate so much with Oyaji before the Fire Nation questioned their island's loyalty.

Her words were carefully coded, just like all of the correspondence were between the Kyoshi Warriors and their island's governor, but it spelled trouble all the same: something was brewing in Lake Laogai. 

The problem was, Minh mentioned, the younger recruits fresh from the Academy weren't allowed near any of the restricted places; most of them were ordered to take over Ba Sing Se's usual Fire Nation security as the more experienced group trooped to the lake, doing who knows what. Older generations of Kyoshi Warriors also weren't given the green light to join the soldiers working near the lake; the project was for high-ranking military only.

Suki picked at the worn edges of the crumpled letter, eyes skimming the hastily written words. It was worrying, to say the least— although, as Oyaji told her and Jia and Ling when he showed them Minh's letter, it had been advantageous for Kyoshi Island to have insiders who could deliver updates to them consistently, especially since fresh students from the Academy rarely raised suspicion of rebellion: the Fire Nation seemed to think that the girls sent so many letters due to homesickness.

"Suki!  _ Suki!" _

Suki's head snapped up at the frantic voice of a younger Kyoshi Warrior, Yi-kai. She pushed Minh's letter into the recesses of her desk drawer and rushed outside, hands on her fans.

"What is it—"

She gasped and almost stumbled down the dojo's porch steps. She rushed to the plaza, where most of the village was gawking at the large statue of Avatar Kyoshi.

The reason was impossible to miss— the statue's eyes were  _ glowing. _

Yi-kai grasped her arm in fear.

"What do you think it means?" she asked in a hushed voice, echoing the same question that the villagers were murmuring to each other. Suki swallowed.

"I don't— I don't know," she replied, just as the gleaming came to an abrupt stop. "Oyaji and Minh didn't train me for anything like  _ this." _

Ling appeared at her shoulder, eyes tight.

"Do you think it's a message from the Spirit World?" she asked, the only sign of her being ruffled was the way her reedy voice broke. "Do you think Avatar Kyoshi is warning us of something?"

"Seems unlikely," muttered Suki, still looking up at the statue. "Although stranger things have happened."

"Like what?” exclaimed Yi-kai, her eyes wide with fear. “Suki, statues made of  _ stone  _ aren’t supposed to  _ glow!” _

“Should we send a message to Minh?” asked Ling, placing a calming hand on Yi-kai’s shoulder. Suki shook her head.

“I think it’s best if Oyaji takes care of that,” she replied. “They’ve had more contact; there’s no need to endanger the island more by sending a message about a mysterious glowing statue. It might invite Fire Nation soldiers on our shores.”

“What are we going to do, then?” said Yi-kai.

“First of all, we need to concentrate on training,” said Suki, straightening up. She smoothed the wrinkles in her tunic. “Whatever this…  _ phenomenon…  _ means, we still need to be prepared for anything. Ling, please round up the other girls. We need to share with them what Minh shared with Oyaji.”

“Got it, Captain,” smirked Ling, before nimbly squeezing through the crowd in search of the other Kyoshi Warriors. Suki turned to Yi-kai, who stood straighter as she awaited orders.

“Yi-kai, please ask Oyaji for instructions, if he has any,” Suki said. “Perhaps he knows more about the lore surrounding Avatar Kyoshi’s statue.”

“On it! See you in a bit!” answered the younger girl, turning on her heel and running in the direction of the governor’s house.

Suki sighed and studied the statue intently, her arms crossed over her chest. 

“Next time you should try talking to us instead of just glowing, y’know,” she muttered reproachfully at the Avatar. “It would save us a lot of trouble.”

* * *

Five more days.

Yue didn't quite remember how she ended up in Gumi's secret bending cove, but after another bout of nightmares that circled around shackles and cages, she just couldn't take another second trapped in her room.

So, here she was, huddled in a small recess in the snowbank, watching the dawn break over the horizon, her breath coming out in thick clouds, her mind still a foggy whirlwind despite her strenuous bending a couple of minutes ago— or was it hours now? She couldn't bring herself to care.

Footsteps crunched in the small hill behind her. Yue blinked.  _ What was it that Gumi said about this place?  _

The wind carried snippets of conversation.

"...better pack that ankle in ice…"

"... didn't know… stupid tiger seal…"

Her heart leapt to her throat.

_ Oh, yes, of course.  _

Yue had forgotten that Gumi's father and his friends spent time in this cove after a hunt. The men were approaching— it was a small blessing on her part that one of them seemed injured, and therefore trudged slower than they normally would. Glancing around in panic, she strained her eyes against the pre-dawn gloom, trying to ascertain a place to hide—

— but then the footsteps were almost directly above her and all she could do was crawl away from the cove, hugging the shadows, while she tried to cover her tracks with her bending.

“You hear something?”

“Probably just an arctic fox.”

“Should we—”

“With that ankle? Ha! You can’t even take down a snow rat with that!”

The men continued to argue, and Yue took their distraction as her chance to scurry away as quietly as possible, still trying to cover her tracks behind her with her bending. She breathed a sigh of relief the moment she could no longer hear their voices— until she realized she must have taken a completely wrong turn on the tundra, because now, even the icy walls of the tribe could not be seen, and only the frosty sea and tall glaciers surrounded her. She started to turn back— surely she would have left some sort of trail despite her bending— only to see that a fresh layer of snow had blanketed the ground.

“Oh no,” she gasped, clutching at her robes when the breeze picked up. She looked around helplessly. Would she get even more turned around if she tried to retrace her steps? Should she try calling for help? There were probably more hunters out here, weren’t there? 

“Hello?” she tried shouting, but the wind whipped away her voice. She turned and cupped her hands to her mouth, fighting against the propriety ingrained in her—  _ princesses don’t shout, but princesses don’t often get lost in the wild, either,  _ “HELLO? Can anyone hear me?!”

The glaciers seemed to swallow the sound. Yue cleared her throat and tried again.

“CAN ANYONE HEAR ME? PLEASE! I NEED HELP!”

There was a yowl in the distance. Yue whipped around hopefully— perhaps there were hunters around, after all— but instead she saw the large, looming shape of a polar leopard, slowly making its way towards her, the blood around its snout strikingly scarlet against its white fur, its yellow eyes glinting in the rising sun.

Yue slowly stumbled backwards, arms up in a waterbending stance, her breathing shallow. She’d never seen a snow leopard alive before, but she had definitely seen the long, deep scratches they left on warriors and hunters alike, and she knew that the moment she did anything to provoke it—

Her heel caught the hem of her robes, startling a yelp out of her— the snow leopard growled and sprung into action, bounding towards her with amazing speed, its sharp fangs bared— Yue screamed and brought her hands up and sliced them down, cracking the frozen ground between her and the leopard—

A deafening crack sounded overhead, enough to distract both her and the animal— it ran away with a roar and before Yue could even process what was happening, chunks of ice as large as huts were falling into the sea and it took everything in her to bend up a wall to shelter her from the humongous waves. Water crashed furiously against the ice and she grit her teeth, forcing herself to keep the walls up until the tide petered out around her ankles, leaving her robes immediately stiff with frost. Shivering, both from the cold and from exhaustion, she slowly melted away the ice…

… only to be confronted with a large, glowing globe, about half the size of the palace, bobbing about a hundred yards away from her. She gasped when she saw the silhouette of a boy trapped inside. Her feet moved without her knowing, and before long her mittened hands were pounding on the orb's roughly hewn surface, trying to find cracks that could help her set the boy free.

_ He might not even be alive— why am I doing this?  _ She shook her head and steeled herself. If there was any time her waterbending could truly help someone, it was now. _ I have to try! Tui and La, help me, please! _

Heart hammering and half-believing that the recent turn of events was just some dream borne of stress and midsummer madness and hypothermia, she stepped back and fell into the octopus form. She took a deep breath and struck the iceberg with eight whips all at once.

Blinding white light poured out of the globe and shot straight into the sky. Yue shielded her eyes as the light flashed, brighter and brighter, until it stuttered to a stop.

Slowly, Yue opened her eyes. The iceberg was cracked open in half, and in the middle of it a child laid, slumped against the ice.

Yue ran forward and transferred him in her arms, her healer's training already kicking in. He had a pulse—  _ weird, she'd never seen those blue markings on anyone before—  _ and despite the boy's thin, strange clothes, there seemed to be no sign of frostbite, even though he'd been trapped in an iceberg. Yue supposed he had the Spirits to thank for his safety— perhaps he was also Spirit-touched; perhaps the Father Moon had also blessed him. That could explain his unusual appearance.

She melted some ice from the bank and gloved her hand with healing water. She lightly traced the boy's bald head, searching for any internal injuries. There appeared to be none, but she might have to bring him to Yugoda if he didn’t wake up in a few minutes. 

Yue sighed and sat back on her heels. She started examining the boy's chi paths with more melted snow when he suddenly groaned.

Gray eyes blinked blearily up at her.

"I… I need to ask you something," he began, his voice small and hoarse. 

Yue adjusted her hold on him and clutched him closer. 

"What is it?" she asked, her hand still coated in healing water.

The boy grinned and jumped up, all traces of weakness gone. 

“Will you go penguin sledding with me?” 

Yue blinked, startled, her water splashing onto her robes.

"Um, I'm— I'm afraid I am a bit too old to be penguin sledding. I'm sorry."

The boy cocked his head to the side, big gray eyes curious. “But you’re just a teen!”

Yue smiled bitterly and stood as well, bending water away from both of their clothes. “I’m actually old enough to get married.”

“Oh,” the strange boy drooped like a flower and scratched the back of his head. “Congratulations, I guess.”

“Thank you," she replied, more out of habit than anything else. She studied the strange boy in front of her. “What did you say your name was?”

The boy beamed. 

“I’m Aang!” 

* * *

In a Fire Nation steamer, in the middle of arctic waters, Admiral Zhao lowered his telescope and smiled to himself.

"Finally."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, finally! Welcome back to the world, Aang! What did you guys think of this chapter? Any guesses on what would happen next? Comments and reviews are always welcome!


End file.
